


Supernatural Dabbles

by PharaohsAshes



Series: Dabble dumps! [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I think?, NSFW, Nephilim, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24568384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PharaohsAshes/pseuds/PharaohsAshes
Summary: There is no pattern, this is just a collection of dabbles that I have no room for and don't have the heart to get rid of. There WILL be many broken ideas/unfinished pieces. This is just the story dump so doesn't matter!This is a very NSFW post, there are a lot of sexual situations, few non-consensual and particular violence. Please be advised before reading. I don't want to hurt anyone, or cause stress! Read at own risk. You have been warned.I do not condone any act within these chapters that is non-consensual/abusive.*WILL POST WARNINGS PER CHAPTER IT CONCERNS*
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Dabble dumps! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/758010
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Sam AU-Royal/GoT dabbles 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. This was not something I expected to post lmao. I recently reconnected to Supernatural after a very long absence, I haven't see anything since season 7 I think? But I got plot bunnies so I'm posting an AU that's not intended be like Game of Thrones but can be considered in the realm of it. I don't use any characters or places from the series, only the similar style of the royal houses (Stark and Lannister) sort of... Let me know what you think? :D I enjoyed writing this quite a lot though not totally sure about how I wrote my character...  
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Winchester/Asch Cinnis

_Hear Me Roar_

Father never said the words often, in fact after the second war he stopped saying them all together. He was a cold man, a calculating and brilliant man. He imposed this on both his children, his son was his crowned lion and his daughter was his pretty pawn to play in the game.

But she was a lioness, she would bow to no man. She would not be pretty, silent and seen. She would be heard. She would roar.

While she studied the property of being a lady she spent her nights pouring over books of war, the way of battle, the words of men.

Asch the lady of house Cinnis would be no pawn.

Father had more respect for her, at least she thought so. Her brother Asher was battle smart, quite the tactician, he held his fathers love, but his little girl held his respect. She was lovely, she was smart and she was quick witted in a way her father should have punished, but never had. On many occasions when asked of her indolence, he said he found it amusing, but she knew it was more than that. _He was proud of his little lioness_.

But the day came on her sixteenth name day that he was quite ready to place his beautiful pawn in the field.

“You’ll be a Queen,” he said to her, upon his tall black warhorse, decorated with fine gold and silks. He looks at her, eyes unwavering and intimidating, she matches his gaze and a very small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Asch held her head high, back straight and gaze impossibly determined as she watched his party ride off into the road, not moving until she lost the sight of the last horse in the horizon.

Asch was not an impatient girl, she did not have outbursts like a child nor did she pester the guard if they knew when her lord father would return. She asked once, the day she was told he was journeying to the capital to find her a king, he said two months.

_It had been four_. Asher kept her mind busy, she was not impatient, but he was helpful. Her elder brother, though divided from her by duties and birthrights, always made time for his only sister. If not for the fact he was born two years apart from her, one would mistake them for twins. They had their fathers rich white-golden hair. Asher kept his short, trimmed quite handsomely, while his sister was forced to keep hers long and pleasing. It came to just below her knees, if she was improper enough to let it be free of any style.

It was not heavy, they were blessed with thin silky hair and it was quite manageable, Asch often wore it in the styles of the summer ladies, pulled into tight braids adorned with flowery crowns of pink roses.

“Now now dear sister I wouldn’t suppose you are distracted with something, are you?” Asher draws her mind from her thoughts, his clever little smirk as if he’s caught her misbehaving. Asch sits as properly as ever and regards him with a chilling look, “Hardly.” Though he knows her far too well. “Father’s men sent word he is returning in a weeks time. It suggests he won’t be staying long thereafter.” This, he _knew_ caught her attention “Oh, did it?” She feigns disinterest, he grins at her with mirth “Oh yes, it suggested he’ll be in need of fresh men and a carriage.” Asch’s heart sped up, _was it true?_ Asher never played fun with her in such ways, he was always lighthearted and did not toy with things he knew she was worried about.

A week had gone by and the trumpets did in fact signal the return of her lord father. He looked tired upon his arrival, they said, but Asch was told ahead of time to await her father in his offices. Asch wore her hair up and tidy, not a single thing out of place- and that included the petals and pearls woven into her hair. Her dress was ornate, white-golden lions dancing along her draped sleeves hanging from her shoulders like little cloaks of silk, the white and red shades woven with patterns of claws and mighty lion jaws. The flow of her dress was long and elegant, hugging her upper body while it spreads out in a bell below her hips. The neckline was wide and swooped outward exposing her shoulders and the elegant line of her collarbone.

She was the picture lady of her house.

She stood, as any lady would have and awaited her father. _She did not wait long._

Lord Eleair Cinnis came into his office commanding the room much like he did with every other, Asch bows, her back straight and legs bent “Lord father,” she says in greeting, “How do you fair?” She asks, holding her tongue from asking what she truly wished to ask. Though her father was never one to bother with formalities, “I have found you a match.” Asch’s eyes slightly narrow at his wording, choosing her words carefully, “A match?” He was standing at his desk, looking at parchments, his eyes glance upward at her, his eyes fixed and imposing, but it did not install fear in his little cub, “The second son of the king in the North.” Asch bit her cheek to keep herself from exposing her emotion to this, her father hated such displays.

However before she could respond he was moving about his desk, looking through his documents, “He is to be king. His brother has forfeit his claim to his crown.” Asch exhales softly, not expecting such a thing, “You will ready yourself for the journey. King John wishes to meet you before deciding if you are a match for his son Samuel.” Her father says, and Asch does not dare to speak, though she is furious. _Wish to meet?_ How dare they drag her into the hellish north to simply meet, do they realize the insult or are they as simple as everyone says, too numb to understand the customs of proper royalty.

The crown lands of the Winchester’s. The wolves of the northern lands. _The Wind Howls._ Asch pales slightly in distaste, a lioness among a wolf pack. _Surely her father jest?_

“A clever match father,” she forced herself to say, he looks at her greatly unimpressed “I taught you to lie finer than that, daughter.” Asch tears her eyes away, her lip twisting now unable to hide her displeasure “The other inquires I have made would insult our house.” Asch felt herself flutter, he had said their house, but she knew he meant insult her. “Samuel is a season older than you. Though his brother Dean would have made for the more impressive match.” Of course he would have, he was the brother who was supposed to be king, bred and raise to the crown. “It is a fine kingdom. You will do well there.” The Winchester’s have a great dynasty, not as long as their house, but long enough to be respectable.

Asch sighs delicately, “Of course father, I shall be ready to leave before sunset.”

As promised she did not delay, ordering her maids to pack all of her things. Looking upon her quarters now, how empty it was, it made something jerk in her belly, she had lived her her whole life. “Don’t be sad little sister.” Asher surprises her, leaning into her open doorway “I shudder to think I’ll never see you again.” Asch mutters, she always found it easy to show her vulnerable thoughts to Asher. He never insulted her for it, never mocked her for having this weakness. “Oh I think I could manage a visit or two. I’m not king yet, I still have the freedoms to enjoy. Besides, I should think it important I become friendly to my sisters husband. This marriage is suppose to be an alliance after all.” He grins easily, trying to soften her sadness. Asch swallows a lump, feeling his hand on her upper back, “I won’t get to see the cubs born this spring.” She laments, looking out her window at the beautiful waves crashing along the banks of the rocks.

“Hm? Is that really what upsets you?” Asher prods, it was a small upset, she loved the lion cubs, the guards gave her the kindness of playing with them when they were still young, the handlers even allowed her to name a few. But it wasn’t what truly upset her. “The North is very far away.” Her brother grunts, nodding in her peripheral vision, shaking his head slightly and a tisk escapes him. “But in the North you will be Queen.” He says, as if the title had much meaning other than the privilege of providing heirs for her new king. A humiliation, she thinks. When she and Asher were little they were treated the same, but once she grew in ways he didn’t, she begun to learn the cruel truth.

Men were rulers, women were their broodmares, a means to _their end, their legacy_. Asher will be king, he will matter and Asch will be lost to the dynasty of the Winchester name, her dignity taken with her birth name, the only thing they will remember her for was being the mother to his sons. Asch was angry, though it wasn’t really Asher’s fault, he couldn’t understand, he was a man, a crown prince- while she, the crown princess was to be shipped off to a forgotten part of the world, he wouldn’t visit, father wouldn’t have it, not with how important it was for Asher to be here, in his kingdom. Maybe he could come for the wedding, maybe he wouldn’t. Asch couldn’t say.

But either way, it might as well have been the last time she would ever see him. “I love you brother,” she says withholding her tears, staring at the sea, wishing it would rush into her chambers and swallow her whole. “I love you little lioness,” he says with a thickness in his voice. They don’t touch, the air is frothing with emotion neither of them are comfortable with. “Write to me,” he clears his throat, backing from the door. Asch says nothing more, and one tear forces it’s way down her cheek, betraying everything she was.

In all the great romances, it always began with the great beauty leaving her kingdom to go to another. Asch always hated those stories, ladies of great houses were plucked from their homes while men get to command them where they liked, never lifting a finger to go where she was, or travel to her home. It was always like this and it was no different now. It would be no different for Asher’s betrothed- who was already picked out and awaiting the day their father announced his ascension to the throne.

The country was cold, the furs were the only thing to keep Asch warm in the carriage as they rode, every kill her father and his men made added to the pile, but hardly helped. She was not built for such frozen weather. The lions of the summer lands were not meant to travel so far north. Asch glares at the hail pelting the top of the carriage, it was no doubt grey and ugly outside, the clouds bunched and angry. Asch is oddly reminded of what her father had said, the Winchester’s. They were not unlike the clouds above their heads, at least from the accounts. The Queen, Mary had died in childbirth, taking all the joy in the house of Winchester with her.

It was said King John had had the winter roses ripped from the roots when she died, not wanting the reminder of his snowy Queen. The men said King John was a grim man, but not a unfair one, he was good to his people, but he was hallow. The house colors were black and grey, miserable colors compared to her whites and golds. Asch muses if her intended found her appealing she might be stripped of her pretty summer dresses of pinks and greens and blues to accommodate her new life and titles, leaving her with nothing but the memory of her home to comfort her.

Samuel then came to her mind. Father told her he was fine, handsome even. Brown of hair and brown of eyes. Little else was told to her, even less was known. The northern kingdom was independent, peaceful to the point it felt silly to think of them as wolves. Asch focuses on a far away thing, a beautiful kingdom ruled by her hand, a crown upon her head and people who adored their Queen. It was a fantasy that dug deep into her mind until there was a jerk in the carriage and she was so rudely taken from her perfect kingdom.

The guards opened her carriage and Asch stood up from her lounged position, the only thing she took with her was the massive fur of a wolf they had slaughtered near the borders of the kingdom. Its grayish white fur did not match her soft red shimmering outfit, but it was far too cold to entertain the idea of leaving without it. Her father helps her from the carriage, Asch was too proud to shiver. There were grey guards littering the path, bowing to their guests as they walked along the cobblestone path. Asch held herself above them, looking over their silver armor, finding their eyes caught between staring and desperate to look away.

The gates were open, ornate and shockingly pleasing to the eyes. The grounds were snowy, covering the tops of the abutments with little piles of built up ice and snow. In the middle of it all, in the mud and snow, was the King and his sons.

King John was in the middle of them, his hair salt and pepper signifying his age, there was no smile on his worn face, his brow was scrunched and his cheeks were wind whipped. He would be handsome, Asch could see that long ago he was, but age and likely drinking had chipped away at him. On his left was Dean, he looked of what his father might have as a young man, handsome, dark eyed that searched Asch with more mischievous intent than she would entertain. His shoulders were broad under his cloaks and decorative armor, the black and grey highlighting his bulk nicely.

Finally her eyes sweep over to her intended, her father said he was fine, but Asch was greatly surprised at the man before her. He was tall- taller than his father and even taller than her own. His jaw was set, pale in the face from the cold and his cheeks were dusted with redness from the cold. His eyes were warm, dark in the grayness of the weather, but she could see it wasn’t their true color. His was bigger than his brother and father, shoulders massive and contained within a heavy black cloak that was trimmed with the fur of some animal, likely a wolf since it was their country.

He was looking at her, staring holes into her, but Asch met his burning gaze like she did with every man who had the gull to stare her down. If he was hoping she would meekly cast her eyes away, he was mistaken. Asch felt invigorated when he tore his eyes away to address her father. “Such beauty.” King John says, and Asch smiles delicately, batting her pretty white lashes and bowing deeply, back rod straight and with all the poise she was raised with, she said; “My King.” The tender sweetness had all three of them taken, and inside she was smirking in victory.

Her father inclined his head, holding a expressionless face, eyes slightly glancing her way in approval. Asch felt quite the spectacle, the wolves of Winchester her audience. “A beautiful flower such as you will wilt in this cold,” King John says, waving his hand to his servants “Come let us dine beside a roaring fire.” Asch smiles prettily at the king, but she was no flower.

_She was a lioness._

The inside of the castle was just as dark, but warmer than she had expected it to be, and much finer too. Her father was seated to John’s left while Sam was at his right and Dean following. Asch was next to her father and across from Dean, but while he paid her all the attention, she paid all of them none. She instead played the picturesque sweet and silent daughter, her eyes were tantalizingly downcast, her lashes fluttering gently as she nibbles at her meal like a lady.

“What was that brilliant fur you arrived here with, my lady?” John asks her, prompting her to bring her doe eyes up to his gaze, teasing a glance to Samuel as she swept to his father, dazzling him with a sugary smile “Wolf, was it not lord father?” Asch says softly, pleasantly. “Yes, one found just inside the border of your kingdom.” Her father says with a tone without emotion, or care for the matter. Her father was never interested in simple talk such as this. “I have never seen one so large.” Asch quips, “The wolves here are quite the thing to behold.” She knew by the smirk Dean couldn’t help but sport that he had taken her innocent comment filthily. Dean despite his obvious interest, _was not her interest._

“My prince?” Asch calls to Samuel delicately, gathering his attention with a snap of his eyes, “You hunt often, I have heard?” He nods curtly, looking almost more like a pup than a wolf, “What is the most impressive thing you’ve killed?” At her question his throat bobbed, almost painfully it appeared as his gathered himself to respond. “An eight foot buck wasn’t it Sammy?” His brother playfully nudges his shoulder into Samuel’s. Asch giggles cutely, smiling for her prince “I have never seen such a beast before.” She pouts her lips slightly, finding how his cheeks turn pink to be quite the appealing sight.

King John hums, “Sam why not take lady Cinnis to our trophy gallery?” Asch gasps excitedly, she had no interest in the brutish hobbies of men, killing things, displaying them as conquests. Though she supposes she would be the same thing, a Queen is little more than a parade-able trophy. “Ah- yes... of course father. If... the lady wishes?” He looks at her softly, how kind, allowing herself to refuse him. She wouldn’t be.

King John seemed to be charmed by her, enough so that he prodded his son with a look. “Oh yes that would be delightful my prince!” Sam- as he is decidedly called, tosses his cloth napkin, rising from his seat to make his way over to her. Asch only lifts herself from her seat once his arm comes up for her to take. At least he was as educated in treating a lady as southern men were. Dean grins from ear to ear as they leave the room. Sam takes her down the torch lit hall, the carpet beneath their feet was fine, little embroidered wolves prancing along the edges. “Do you find it very cold here?” Sam asks as they round the corner going deeper into the castle.

Asch hums, “I admit I am a stranger to this weather, but it is not without its charms.” She smiles up at him. Sam was quite tall, but the top of Asch’s head met the middle of his chest comfortably. Asch found she was quite pleased with the picture they must make. They enter the trophy room and it is as disgustingly large as she might have thought it would be. “Tell me of the animals, each one!” She coos, letting herself look around with wonder. But Sam did not move from the entrance.

“Tell me,” he begins, voice rough with something she couldn’t tell, “Why it is you should be my wife?” His question had caught her off guard, but she didn’t let it show in her face as she looks back at him coyly, “To give you children of course, my prince.” his stare turned flat, appearing unimpressed with her, brow raised slightly as if he expected more of her.

Asch felt something burn in her belly. _How dare he._

“If I wanted that of a wife I would have married that last ten noble ladies that have come here.” He says to her, making her silently furious, Asch released herself from his grasp, swaying her hips as she goes further in his trophy room, uninterested in whether he follows her or not. “What is it you’d like to hear my prince?” She says in an airy, bored tone, one that was quite genuine. She cared not to impress him, “That I shall be your pretty summer Queen?” She can hear him following her along the halls, her hands sliding along the furs pinned to the walls, ruffling the hides of the beasts on display with discontent.

“A lioness subdued by the wolf king? That I shall be your means to a legacy that your brother left you to continue?” Asch laughs with little humor, stopping in front of a great wolf, it was staring at her with its maw hinged open, if it wasn’t stuffed she might have thought it would salivate along the dark stone floor. “Why should I be your wife? Why should I be any mans wife?” She snaps, feeling hateful, her father would have her beaten for this. Her father might beat her himself for this. The wolf, with its black big eyes, snarling at her violently, reminding her of his houses words; _The Wind Howls._

She does not forget that Sam may be her only reasonable choice for a husband, lest her father find her someone extremely undesirable, which he might of course if her insolence is made known. A condition of what lie between her legs, she will never be free, but she can find agreeable husband.

Asch turns, looking at the slight disbelief in his face, he almost seemed to be fighting a grin. “A challenge is what I offer, my prince. I should think you’ll never be bored of me.” He stares at her, seemingly now observing her like he would an opponent, a man of his equal match. _Good_ , she purrs happily inside, she might make something of this marriage yet. “When your father first arrived here proposing you as a match I had not thought much of it.” He tells her, running a hand through his soft looking hair. “I had heard tales of the lioness’ incomparable beauty.” Asch preens, batting her eyes at him sweetly, “I now know it truly was a terrible idea,” he smiles at her, it tugs the corner of his lip upward so handsomely Asch thought if she was a lesser minded girl she might swoon, “A lioness cannot be tamed. But a wolf can.” She says, making him hum in consideration, “A challenge indeed, kitten.” He quips, smile turning into a sharp smirk, Asch must have look properly shocked because he spins on his heel, seemingly very pleased with himself.


	2. Sam AU-Royal/GoT dabbles 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Winchester/Asch Cinnis 
> 
> It’s getting juicy.

It has been a mere handful of days Sam had decided he would marry Eleair Cinnis’ daughter, Asch. The king in the south had stayed less than half the day after his father gave the news. It wasn’t as if Sam cared, but it was clear the king had distaste for their lands and little respect for its king. It was a means to an end clearly, his focus rightfully set on his own son and his kingdom. 

With the perpetration for the wedding underway it would be another meaningless event in the summer kings eyes. Sam had at first outright refused to entertain yet another match, but his father was firm in his commands, it was another king- which there were only four of in the whole kingdoms. Sam knew whether or not he liked the little lioness, he would be betrothed either way, it was simply a courtesy that he met her first. 

His father had been furious with him the first time he opened his mouth and said he would only consider a marriage if he had gotten acquainted first. The smack upside his head almost sent him to the floor if not for Dean holding him upright. She was a crown princess and he was a second born son, his crown only given to him because Dean did not want it. Their father wasn’t shocked in the slightest when Dean announced he wanted to give up his claim, he didn’t have the hand for it, war he was all too comfortable with, but it was peace times and Dean could not be diplomatic like his brother. Sam wasn’t sure he would be a fit ruler, but wasn’t about to deny his father, he had no more children and there was no option to refuse this burden. 

Sam had little to do with the wedding, as little interest as it was to him, their people are joyous from the news. It was a royal wedding and it would hold all the fanfare as they all did. The coronation would come first, his fathers crown passed to his son, and moments after he would be married. There would be dancing and a grand feast. It was a shame it was the middle of winter, or it would be held outside among the trees. 

Instead the ceremony would be held close to the castle, the guests would be surrounded by torches and fires, he suspects it would still be freezing. Sam does wonder however if his little summer lioness would take kindly to the setting. Asch was not what he expected. She was a most impeccable lady, her breeding showing in every motion she made, but there was fire in her, one he saw ablaze in the trophy room. Wild and unabated, pure as she was reserved. As if only after she lashed out of her cage did she remember to return to it. Her gentle disposition at dinner was no doubt genuine, but it did not fool Sam enough into thinking that was all there was. 

Dean was certainly pleased, but he always was so long as it was pretty. And gods was she pretty. It almost bordered on a unfair kind of beautiful, the kind of beauty that was written in stories and poems and songs and Sam had heard them all. Small parts of him knew her beauty would be wasted here, it wasn’t the summer lands or the capital, but at least he wasn’t a man thrice her age paying for the pleasures of marrying her. Sam as of yet did not know if she truly liked him or if she tolorated his presence because he was the best of her choices. 

His father had insisted they hunt today, Sam watches the tree line, trying to spy anything moving. Dean was sitting on his knee, bow propping himself up as he gazes at the sky, watching for birds overhead. His father was beginning to whittle something in a minor log he found. Sam was waiting for his father to speak, since the day he became a man his father used their hunting trips to impose wisdom upon the two of them. Sam always wanted to be apart of their family hunting trips, he felt left out as a boy when Dean trotted off with his father, smiling easy at his little brother, _one day Sammy._ He’d say, ruffling his hair as he passed, Sam had hated it. 

But this had slowly become one of the worst pass times, the waiting, the horrible anticipation of what his father might choose to say. 

“Do you like her?” His father grunts, pulling his knife through the wood, thumbing down the splinters. Sam adjusts himself, glaring out at the tiniest movement beyond the trees. “I’ve yet to make anything of her, father.” He says honestly, listening to Dean snort his laughter. “That so?” John asks, waiting for him to divulge, “Not much but stories. Most say she’s naught like her mother.” Sam hums absently in response, aiming his bow as he follows the motion in the trees, steadying his breath. 

Eleair Cinnis was not a man he knew much about, his father fought along side Eleair long before he was born, their crowns were soaked in the blood of the old tyrant king Uldin. John, Eleair and the two others, Bylin and Darian split the country in four and ruled as king in their realms, and that was the last of the great wars. John has told remarkable, cruel stories of Eleair, his bloodshed and unfathomable will only equal to his heartlessness. It was Eleair who slaughtered Uldin’s babes, all four of the princelings and all five of his daughters. 

John hadn’t liked much of the man, but he respected his military mind. The stories of Asch’s beauty did not just speak of her face or hair, but of her cold and distant eyes. The steely grey, sharp and shiny as a blade. The lady Cinnis had died giving her life, Eleair did not weep for his wife, he had never remarried, but it as clear their marriage was one of alliance and not love. John did not choose their mother Mary for political gain or standing, he choose for love and ached in longing the night Sam came into the world, taking his mother’s place. 

Asch was the daughter of a king- the lion king of the summer lands. She had no crown and Sam had no rights to her lands because of her elder brother Asher, but it was a significant joining of houses, Eleair surely wouldn’t have settled for anything less than a king for his daughter and John couldn’t be finer with having a daughter from a royal house. Still, the lion king was a man of secrets, plots and underhanded motives. John has said in passing, it was truly lucky he cared to pair their houses, for whatever the white lion has planned it was better to be an ally than an opposition. This marriage might have been the centrefold of his decpetion, but none of them could see yet.

Sam lets an arrow go from his bow, it sliced through the air and stings the wind, there was a guttural noise and a cushioned thumping in the forests snow bed. John doesn’t move with his sons as they go to the body. It was a clean kill, the wolf didn’t suffer. The brothers carry it back to their cart, it was heavy, a big male wolf in the mid of his season, the beast likely fathered quite a few pups. Sam almost felt terrible for it, his houses sigil and it lay dead there among some pheasants and fowl. 

John grunts, making no motion to move from the snow, comfortable in its cold embrace. “Give your bride the pelt of the beast.” Sam slides a hand through the thick winter fur, it was black, dark as night fall. It did not match her pale skin and luscious white hair. Sam tilts his head, admiring the arrow that sat stabbed into its eyes, _very_ _clean_. “I don’t think the summer lady will like such a gift.” Dean muses, leaning on his long bow. 

“Lions wither in this weather, they say the lady of lions grows frozen at a breeze.” Dean looks at the back of his fathers head, eyes Sam with a nick in his brow, as if giving condolences “Surely then its a terrible idea to have a summer girl as Queen.” John looks over his shoulder, not impressed by his eldest “Lady Cinnis will be your sister by marriage and mother of your nephews. She is no summer girl. Do not insult her.” Sam hides a snort of laughter, pinching his lips together as Dean blinks owlishly “Yes as you say father.” 

His eyes fall on Sam, his gaze heavy and purposeful “You will marry that girl and put a Winchester boy in her belly.” He gets up, throwing the whittled head of a wolf into the snow, “Eleair does little without reason and we will not anger him. He values his little lioness enough he would sooner give her a kingdom than a king.” There was weight, too heavy between them as his father looks into his eyes, their height was unmatched, Sam towering over him, but his father was no less cutting. “A women ruling?” Dean laughs, but it does not raise any humor in his father. 

“Dean.” Sam presses, looking at him sharply, John raises his chin, “You’ve filled your head with tales of gentle summer girls and poems of their beauty. Neither of you make the mistake, she is just like her father.” John narrows his eyes, “Come, it’s growing dark.” Sam did not like the feeling in his chest that grew with each word that passed from his fathers mouth. John did not wait for his boys, climbing his horse and commanding the men to move. 

Dean swallows, “He always makes it more grim that it is. She’s just a women. Keep her in line, she’ll hardly make trouble.” Sam was more gentle than that, his father said it was something from his mother, something he should never stray far from. But a wolf is not subdued by a lion. 

Sam was of the kind to do most all things himself, stoke fires, dress himself and skin his kills. It was respectful, to the creature, that the man who took its life treated its corpse. Sam spreads his knife under its hide, stripping the mighty wolf of its pelt. It was methodical work, it kept his mind from wandering into things it shouldn’t. 

The silence did not last, but the interruption was not one he had excpected. The lady lion pauses in the door, blinking slowly at him as if she did not expect to see him there. “My lady, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Her dress was of fine quality, a gentle shade of blue with sleeves that nearly dusted the ground. Her hair was loose and styled like a northern lady’s, it did not quite fit her, it was oddly beautiful, something he had not expected her to entertain. 

“My own wandering, My prince.” She smiles, lingering in the door, “I have gotten lost.” She was bashful in her admittance, “Is there a place you wished to find?” Sam asks, cleaning his bloody hands. Asch picks her dress up, sauntering inside, still stiff as though she was not welcome yet. Sam did not think she had to be given permission, but he gestures to a spare seat and she gratefully take it. Sam could admire how purposeful she sat, if she had one that was. It was as if she did not attempt to look anything but presentable- Sam wonders if she was ever comfortable, if he would ever see her as such. 

“Not such that I would pester you with it my prince.” Asch says, looking over the beast without a hint of displeasure. Her eyes were cold as they peered it’s half brought up fur and bloody body, “You my lady are no pest, tell me what you wish and I’ll see it done.” His words seem to impact her slightly, her cheeks gaining a little colour, she glances over at the door, and Sam believes he is about to partake in something not meant for any ears but his. 

“It’s a silly thing, I think. They say you house wolves, just as my father keeps lions. I should have liked to see it.” Asch says leaning her arm along the rest of the chair, her fingers dancing in a little pattern. “I had not thought to ask- father would abhor my curiosity.” Sam could hardly stand the way her eyes look into him, a steady and measured way that had his heart a flutter from her beauty. It was something quietly defiant, she should not have met his gaze, no lady- no matter who they were, would have. He might have said so, if he did not like it so much. 

“Your curiosity is my pleasure to indulge, my lady.” He says, “It is no rumour, come my lady, I will take you to them.” Asch tilts her head, considering this a moment, “Is it wise? My father would not have his daughter in the lions den much less a wolves kennel.” Sam grins softly, taking her hand and watching as she delicately rose with poise. “They are not in kennels my lady.” This sparks nerves, stiff and hesitant, a step back is taken, pretty doe eyes peer up at him. “We won’t tell your father.” 

The castle had many things inside of it, novelty places such as sitting rooms and offices, some more useful places; libraries, armoury houses. Sam takes her out of the castle, into the sables toward the warmth of the stone dens. Asch clings to his arm, a little nervous fretting as she kneads his sleeve. “Do wolves frighten you, my lady?” He mutters, opening the steel doors, “Lions thrash at their cages, the two are of a kind.” Sam hums in consideration, “Not so, my lady. Wolves could be understood, they will measure your intentions, if you are kind they will see no reason to harm you.” It does not still her nerves, Sam is elated that she chooses to take comfort in him. 

“Lions are not mindless beasts, my prince.” She says with an edge, “No, they are beautiful, but vengeful.” _That_ brings a smile to her face. The wolves stir before they turn the corner, Sam can hear the scrap of their nails on the stone. There was four resting around a stoked fire. The wolves were beloved by the family, but they weren’t very interested in roaming the castle, but not sequestered here, the door was often open and allowed them to roam. Father thought it best to keep them here while Asch was among them. 

Of the four, there were three males and one female. John’s was a mighty brown wolf, his fur a humble bark brown, his name was Summon. His eyes were dark and large as his head picks up to their intrusion. The female, his mother Mary’s wolf was a tender grey, she was much smaller than the three, and she was called Rose. 

The two wolves that were most interested in their guests were his and Deans. Sam’s wolf was white, it’s fur rivalled the shade of his brides hair, he was called Winter. Dean’s was a sooty black and beautiful thing, Might he called him. Sam tells her their names, petting Winter’s head as he sniffs at his brides skirts. 

Asch presses into him, staring at the beast, Winter was just shy of her shoulders, his blue eyes bore into her as he passes his judgement, the little lioness was not pleased with this, but he whimpers, nose looking for her hand. Sam watches with careful eyes as she slowly lifts her hand from his arm, she lets him smell her fingers before he brushes his large face into them. “He likes you.” Sam comments fondly, delighted as he watches her stroke his jaw, a tender excitement in her face as Winter sits for her. “He is very sweet,” she coos, petting some of his fur down, scratching his ear, much to the wolf’s delight. Sam was glad she was not so fearful of the wolves, it was tradition that she too have one when they marry. His mother came from the house of deer, she was delighted to have such a thing as a companion, but Asch was a lion. 

He was not so sure she would. 

“I truly had thought Wolves Keep was simply what you had named your castle.” Asch muses, continuing to admire Winter with her hands. “There have always been wolves here, since the dawn of our house. I expect it is the same in Lions Reach.” He says, kissing his teeth toward the wolf. Winter stands back on his four legs, looking up at his master, “If you would have his company I think he would like to stay with you.” Sam watches as Winter brushes into her skirts, not unlike a cat. A tiny gasp escapes her shiny lips, “I would yes.” 

Winter moves along with their pace, eager and interested as they return to the castle, “Dinner is approaching, I shall leave you to freshen up if you wish.” Asch curtseys just as elegantly as when they met “Thank you for a most wonderful afternoon, my prince.” Sam bends forward in his own bow, “Thank you as well, my lady.” Sam watches her leave, Winter all the while nosing her hand for pets. He was warmed from the sight. 

“You’ll make a wolf of her yet, Sammy.” Dean's smug voice surprised him out of his daze, “Don’t be crude.” He snipes, walking passed him to return to his work. “I wasn’t, but I could.” 

“Please do not.” 

Dean shrugs as he goes with his brother, sitting with him as he works on the fur, “Well, be honest, do you like her?” Sam didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but his face betrayed him “I thought so-“ Dean was no doubt barreling toward something deplorable, but suddenly they were interrupted the clapping of the door opened in a rush. “Father?” Dean spouts, “Ravens came- King Bylin has declared war. King Darian has declared for him.” Sam stops, almost slicing into the fur with a shocked jerk of his hand, “What? Why?!” John runs a hand over his face, “Your marriage and the joining of our houses has stirred the two into action. They are not pleased with the alliance.” It had just been shy of twenty peaceful years, “But we won’t control the summer lands- her brother will be king. Sam’s children will have no claim to it!”

“But they will be of his blood- Eleair has sent word, you will marry tonight and ready our banners to ride south tomorrow.” 


	3. Sam AU-Royal/GoT dabbles 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Winchester/Asch Cinnis

Their war room did not permit women, the lords that bent the knee to his father were quite clear of this fact as Asch sat among them, her face betraying none of her thoughts. “Lady Cinnis has an equal part in these discussions and I will hear no more of it.” Sam barks, tired of their bickering. The loyal men had come without summons, their hands full of a letter from king Bylin that they must lay down their arms and join with his house. It was bold of him to try such a thing so deep north, but Sam had no illusions that more letters of the like were sent to all of Eleair’s bannermen. 

“Is it not the lady Cinnis that he wants? Why risk the North?” One bumbles, Asch sits there stone faced, as if he had not just insulted her greatly. “She is to be your queen, and she has been gracious enough to sit there and allow your insults but I will not.” Sam glances toward her, but Asch does not seem to notice or care that he defended her, “But my prince open war?!” 

“Open war was upon us no matter who lady Cinnis marries. The two kings have long since caused trouble in the realm. This was simply an excuse.” John waves the lord off, “Leave us- all of you.” His hand extends to the lords and none speak until they are alone in the heavy silence, “You will marry tonight and tomorrow she will ride with you to Lions reach. There we will discuss our plans.” Sam looks hesitantly toward Asch, “My lady apologies but it is unsafe for you to stay here.” Asch’s hand gestures in dismissal against the rest of the chair, her thoughts her own as she sits there silently. John continues “I doubt it is you they are truly after but you are safer in your ancestral home, your brother can assure your safety there.” It was unspoken but obvious that the lords would sooner give her to the southern kings, spoiled or not and uncaring of either Sam or Eleair’s wrath. It was not a risk worth taking, his people did not like or trust her yet- Sam does not know if they ever will.

Asch stands from her chair, gaze torn away from the table to the hearth, “Darian is a fat and foolish man.” She finally speaks, and it is venomous, “Easily swayed and more easily broken. He will fall first in this war, either by sword or fear. Bylin detests my father, he will be easily baited into disadvantagous combat.” Sam blinks, smiling a little as the side he saw of her in the trophy room returns. John’s brows meet his hairline, a baffled but impressed expression overtaking his face “You have an interest in warfare, my lady?” Asch glances at his father, meeting his gaze before looking back to the flames in the hearth “Everyone should, none are immune to the dangers of it. Least of all a kings daughter.” 

“Well said, my lady.” John praises, a slow grin erupting in his face as he looks toward Sam, “Come, it is not so grand as it should be, but we must have the ceremony.” Asch was already in an ivory gown, it was a beautiful thing, not something she might have worn if they had a proper ceremony, but it was delicate and lovely. There were no lions among the wolves embroidered upon the silk, they were snarling, their crowns dancing over their heads. 

The crown his father passed and pressed into his hair feels light, but it’s meaning so heavy. It was made of carved wood, stained black and arching in sharp spindles. The crown given to Asch was small and fit into her hair almost as more of an accessory. It was hidden in her hair, it’s silver trails the only indication it was there. It was not finished he had been told, and it was clear by the little holes where precious gems would have been socketed. It did not look incomplete to his eyes, but the smith insisted it be returned to him so he may finish it to his content. 

The priest called for them to join, Sam felt her stiff hands slide along his arm until both gripped his forearms. Sam does the same, swirling his thumbs into her dress, hoping the gesture was understood as calming. Sam admired her once more, realizing there was a small detail of a lions mane dusting the floor where her dress met it. Its pure white colour was jarring, amoug all the ivory it was mistakable, almost unseen. Sam felt a twist in his stomach, her houses identity was being consumed by his own. 

“With this ring I so do promise to stay at your side as yours alone.” Asch whispers, gentle fingers taking his hand and slipping the band to the root of his finger. Sam catches her hand in his and squeezes her softly, drawing her eyes to his face. “With this ring I so do promise to take no other, that I shall protect you and cherish your thoughts as my own.” Her hands were shaking as he stared into her eyes, she did not flinch from his gaze as he slips the ring along finger. 

Sam leans closer to her, Asch lifts her chin, her delicate neck exposed as he stares at her petal pink lips, his tongue darts out of his mouth as he dips forward. Their lips meet soft and tenderly against each other, Sam is encouraged by how her hands grip his arms, they part and they are paused. Sam keeps his face close, his noise poised against her own. Asch pokes her nose into his, a soft gentle drag of it before she parts. Nothing is said after that, but his father peers expectantly. Asch takes his arm, and Sam leads her from the hall. 

Sam lets her free once they come to the quarters held once by his father. It was bare, few things of his here and few things of hers. Most of it was packed in trunks. Sam lets his eyes sweep over the room, a thought struck him then, upon his return everything he owned will be here and in its place. Asch wanders toward the window, gentle pale fingers touching the icy cold pane. There was a knock, and Sam pushes his hair back, opening his door to be greeted by his brother. “You left this,” he gestures to his arms, and the black pelt of the wolf he killed resting there. “Father asked if you wished for a witness, to assure your marriage... consummated.” He whispers this to Sam, but they have no illusion she cannot hear them. “I told him to take the sheets and leave you be.” Sam takes the pelt from his brother and nods, swallowing harshly. 

“Be well brother, tomorrow we ride to war.” 

The words hung foul in the air, sickening the already sour taste. 

“Ride to war.” It was a foreign echo, a sharp and unsavoury one, he could hear her take measured steps around the bare table, her fingers whispering their touch along the surface. “Men will ride off to their glory and death. Their wives will sit through the long days and pray for them.” Sam shuts the door, gripping the fur, “Will you pray for me?” It was intended to be light hearted, but he could see she was not pleased. Sam instead sighs, shaking his head. “Father did not believe in the gods.” Asch says softly, a little hiss escapes with a furious break of air. 

"What do you believe?” Sam asks, she turns, and he thinks refuses to look at him now, a little frown is etched on her face, he can see her clearly through the fog covering the window. “Gods would not waste their ears listening to the meek prays of sad wives.” Sam’s brow’s raise at the darkness of her tone, as if the gods have personally condemned her. “Then what do gods listen to?” If not the tender prayers of wives and babes, if not the soldiers pleas for a short war or long summer, what do they dare lend their ear too?

Sam did not pray much, his father had long ago, Dean didn’t place much stock in them either. “They listen to nothing. They play their cruel jokes. Gods or none, if they listened I would have been a boy and I would have a crown.” Sam looks at the floor, gazing at the dark wooden floor boards, “You would have been a second son.” Asch's pretty face twists, she looks at him through the glass and their eyes meet, “Is it so terrible?” Sam asks though he doesn’t think he wants the answer, “To be a women? To be my wife?” His stomach was tight when she turns, staring at him without an emotion in her steel eyes.

The lioness was stalking him, and the wolf rose to her challenge. “ _Will it be?_ ” She asks, there was a hint of fear. Sam does not answer her with words, instead his steady hands came to grasp at her hips, he pulls her then, into his chest, his lips press against hers again. Asch leans into him, her weight comfortable against his, she was little and lovely. Her dress was not so difficult that he had to take much his mind to remove it, silk laces slip from their place and fall into the trail of her skirts. It slides from her frame, her supple pale shoulders coming into light as it slips down her arms. Sam pulls the ties off his clothes, yanking them down his arms and throwing them to the floor. He doesn’t look at her, though he knows she is naked. Instead he reaches for the pelt his brother returned, lifting it from the place he set it aside, his eyes roam her face, the pink embarrassment shining across her pretty cheeks. He opens it, undoing all of the folds it was in and sweeps it across her naked shoulders, draping it there. For a moment she looks at it, rubbing her fingers through its supple soft fluff. 

“A wolf pelt for my lion queen.” He steals her lips in another kiss, lifting her up with a hook of his arms under her backside. He stares up at her, carrying her toward their bed, he lays her there, looking at her, he can feel her heartbeat hammering away under her breast. Sam’s hands ghost along her thighs, spreading her legs open to lay peacefully between them. Asch shivers under his fingers, nerves fraying like cheap linen. Sam lifts them, slipping down the furs. Asch digs her head into the pelt, eyes squeezed shut and a terrible shiver wrecks her body as his hot breath tingles along her thigh. Sam kisses her first, peppering gentle and sweet kisses until his lips reach the ones between her legs. 

Sam places a long and deep kiss there, and licks the taste from his wet lips as she pushes a breath out of her chest. Sam parts her opening with his tongue, laving at her with the speed of a big cat. Sam grins at the mere thought as it crosses his mind. Licking and kissing the sweet sounds and taste from her, his tongue was generous and large, she was shiny and dripping, sloppily wet and rosy. Sam took his hand and drives his knuckles between her slit, Asch arches into his hand, eager to take the fingers he slowly pushes into her. 

Sam was kind, gentle as he eases his thick fingers into her tiny opening. She was warm, beautiful as her hips wiggle, breath uneven and hair coming undone from its pins. Sam lifts himself, capturing her lips and feeling her tremble as she arches into his skin. Asch shudders into his mouth, his tongue playing with hers. Asch whimpers softly, gasping away from his mouth as her cunt tightens around his fingers. Sam presses his weight upon her, vigorously pushing his fingers in and out of her, Asch cries out and stills, her head falling back and exposing her neck to his wet kisses.

Sam pushes her through it, milking the sensation of her cunt fluttering like a heart, pulling them from her once her writhing halts. Sam lifts her into his arms as she goes bonelessly, soft unmarked hands grabbing his neck and shoulder for balance, nose delicate against his cheek. Sam uses his free hand to shove at the furs, pushing the bedding away until the soft white underside is exposed. Asch composes herself, eying his efforts. Sam felt guilty in that moment, laying her in the fresh white sheets. As if he was betraying her, exposing her to those who will look at the stain of her innocence, marring his new queen with the embarrassment. 

Asch can’t look at him as she opens her thighs for him, spreading herself to the indignity of it, his wild and fiercely beautiful lioness succumbing to her shame as all women do. Sam swallows harshly, and decides quickly. Asch looks at him when he lifts her again, confused at his actions as he pulls the black fur pelt back in its place and then letting her lay upon it. “No one will see,” he whispers, watching her steel eyes soften the longer she stares into his. “Another gift then,” her voice is so quiet he almost lost her words, he smiles at her, and she reaches for him this time, and Sam goes willingly into her embrace. 

Her legs slide along his skin, latching onto his hips as she opens herself to him, Sam palms his cock, stroking it in his hand as she places kisses along his cheek and teasingly at the edge of his mouth. Sam closes the distance, the head poking at her pink opening. Asch inhales generously, willing herself to relax under this touch. Sam slowly sinks inside, feeling her cunt resist his intrusion. Asch’s throat releases a straggled cry of pain, tears bursting from her eyes. Sam kisses her mouth, petting her ribs, cupping her breast in his hand allowing his thumb to toy with her pink nipple. Asch thrashes under him, whining at her pain as he rests flush against her body, the whole of his cock nestled inside of her. 

Sam takes his other hand and weaves it between them, finger brushing and toying with the pink little bud at the top of her cunt. Asch huffs out a strained gasp, Sam dares to look, lifting slightly away and can already see the fur matted under where they met. He stays there, staring as he thumbs the rosy bud, not moving and barely breathing as his finger works, watching the blood well up around his cock and drip into the fur. Asch breathes raggedly, so clearly miserable but stays still for him, doing what he always assumed she was taught too. She’s beautiful like this he cannot help but notice, her hair was a mess, a dune of snow undone of all the work her hand maids had done. It was so much prettier loose and long. 

It takes time, but Sam is very patient, coaxing her with the smallest of movement as he touches her, waiting stiff and painfully hard inside her. He cannot move, he won’t until her pain ceases. “M-My K-King-“ she is breathless, jarring him from his work to look at her face. Her skin was pink, the soft colour reaching almost to her belly as she squirms slightly, mortified that he was staring at her, but he could not stop now. “Sam.” He rasps, voice deep and throat full of gravel, “Please call me Sam.” Asch blinks, big cow eyes staring at him, snowflake lashes fluttering “S-Sam-“ she tries it, Sam adores the sound of it. 

“Asch...” he dips forward, canting his hips, and to his delight she gasps. Sam rolls his thumb steadily against her bud, thrusting his cock gently into her, working her open each time he returned, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Asch’s hands roam his skin, sliding up his thick arms and curling into the nape of his neck, tugging at his hair while the other hand scrapes her nails into his back. 

Sam shoves his cock into her with a bit of force, making her jolt and moan, Sam grins, exhaling in amusement as he starts to pound into her, losing himself to the sensation of her gripping him. Asch kisses him again to silence herself, turning redder from each new noise he pulled from her. She was shy, his little lioness was _shy_. Sam groans into her lips, letting her hide in his skin and quiet her sounds. 

Someday he would hear her _roar_.

Sam swirls his hips, hammering into her, little wet sounds could be heard between them as she twists underneath him, her mouth hidden in his throat as she muffled her cries of pleasure. Sam can feel her gasping his name into his skin and it only encourages him. Sam flips her onto her belly, allowing only a moment to pass before hes pushing her into the sheet and pulling her backside up, Asch sags into the fur. Sam spreads her wider, hand holding up her pelvis and fingers vigorously pleasuring her as he pounds her into the bed. 

He could feel his cock throbbing, struggling as she strangles him, his thrusts were growing sloppy and Sam began to chase his end, rubbing her harder and faster until she’s pushing back, whining into the pillows as her thighs tremble with her release. Sam chokes on his breath, a straggled grunt escaping his throat as he shoves into her once more, burying himself as deep as her cunt could take him and releasing with a snarl. His balls press into her skin, cock emptying into her womb in spurts. Sam sags, hooking one hand under her as he slides onto his side, taking her with him, not allowing his gushing cock to slip from her as he hugs her to his chest. 

Asch is panting, gulping air as she grips his arm in her hands, legs shaking against his as her cunt squeezes everything it can from him. “Come with me,” he says breathlessly, “To war- stay with me in the encampments until its won.” His request has her shuddering, she can’t speak to accept or deny it, she can only turn her face and kiss him fiercely. 

Sam licks it from his lips, a rumble lifting from his chest. His cock slips from her, his body pulling up. Sam rubs his face, there was a basin of water sitting by a tall mirror. Sam takes a cloth and soaks it, returning to clean the mess. Asch isn’t looking at him, her eyes cast toward the wet and matted fur, “They will want proof.” She whispers, letting him roll her into her back, cleaning the mess slipping from between her legs. “They will settle for my word.” Sam grumbles, gently soothing the tarnished colour from her thighs. “My father will send someone to witness if you do not.” The sickness of the words tear from her mouth, her neck stretching to look away. Sam’s face is grim and he exhales sharply through his nose, curtly nodding. Sam wipes himself crudely, throwing the cloth to the side. Asch gathered the blankets, pulling them to her chest as she struggles to sit up, Sam takes the pelt from their bed, eying it carefully. Sam finds his discarded clothes, pulling them on sluggishly, Asch pulls her hair over her shoulder “I will be a moment, Asch.” Her name naked of titles makes her skin warm. Sam smiles tenderly. 

“My father will not have it. She says, suddenly, looking out the window again, passed his face. “You are my wife and I will have you there as I please.” He says, a growing distaste for Eleair Cinnis. The man didn’t so much as speak to him in any regard, as if he never wanted another man to have command over his only daughter. 

“To what purpose?” She says, the weight of propriety gone from her shoulders, something of lazy comfort and easiness between them, Sam was glad for such a thing, that she did not despise him. That it was not so terrible between them. Sam had thought when he heard his father intended to marry him to lady Cinnis that it would be a silent, strange and afar marriage. That she would look pretty and bow her head, present herself every night until she gave him a son, and let him decide if he wished for more. 

Sam grips the pelt, his fingers warm under its thick fur. “To sit with me in council, to keep my bed warm and give me your company.” He answer had her regarding him with naked, honest shock, it was gorgeous. “Your lords will most certainly not like that.” There was a tiny smile upon her lips, “The lords will like what I tell them too.” Sam leans toward her, softly kissing her hair, wondering if the gesture was strange to her. 

Asch smiles gently, watching him leave. 

Sam held a great distaste for what was expected of him, expected of his new queen. His boots pound into the floor as he walks to the main hall where his father was staring at maps. Dean glances over, a slight tired smile that turned grim as he notices what Sam carried with him. “It’s done.” He says, with a healthy amount of disgust as he shows his father the wet warped fur. Sam drops it onto the table, stepping away from it a moment after, “Do as you like with it. Send it to her father, burn it. As you will.” John let’s his eyes slide over it, a tight frown “It’ll be cleaned,” he says, watching his youngest look at him suspiciously “Go on, find sleep while you can. We ride at first light.” 


	4. Castiel Dabbles 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel/Asch Cinnis
> 
> I've fallen down the angel pit again.   
> Short summary because I almost have five chapters of this already- Asch has been with Sam and Dean on most of their hunts, when the angel Castiel comes into their lives. She thought she wasn't anything special, until he tells her that she is apart of a prophecy. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy because I wrote a LOT.

Asch stood there, in slight disbelief while the rest of her gauged what Dean has just told her. The man in front her was an angel. 

He looked like any other man, his eyes were abnormally shiny, a striking blue color. While his hair was soft and feathery like, black as ink. He wore the type of clothes an accountant might, a black suit with a thin blue tie, a tan coat covering most of it as if he was leaving the office after a long day. 

Asch didn’t know what to make of him as they leveled each other, his eyes emotionless, immaculate. He looked at her as if she was simply anything else, nothing special, nothing interesting. Granted, she wasn’t, she was just a women caught up in this like Dean was just a man caught up in this. 

It wasn’t unnerving, to be face to face with something that wasn’t suppose to exist, something that had millions of literature, art and lore. Asch looked at him as if he wasn’t anything special. 

“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” He says in a raspy, slightly rough voice. He had said this as if it was simply a comment, a no-big-deal _fact_. Asch prided herself on not reacting at all to it, simply tilting her head in bare recognition, and there and then, he was done with her. His interests seemed solely on Dean, his voice only low enough for Dean. Asch didn’t care, surprisingly, it did not bother her. She was not special and now there was angelic proof that it was true. 

Asch told herself that she wasn’t drinking because of that, but the four empty glasses of whisky didn’t lie as she sat, sagged against a dark corner of a shady bar. Asch told herself it didn’t sting that not _one_ guy came up to her and try anything, despite being obviously inebriated and an easy lay. And Asch knew she would be, but no one thought she was special enough to come and chat with. 

Asch paid her tab, stumbled off and took great offence to the fact she was allowed to leave in peace, not a single person bothering her all the way to her motel room. Sam was there still, researching something on his laptop and waved as she came into their room, not paying enough attention as she rummaged in one of the bags and took another bottle of whisky from Dean’s things. She had her own room and tonight they weren’t working, so she sat by the window, looking at the dead flies trapped between the glass and screen, drinking right from the bottle. 

Asch could see herself in the reflection against the night, she was pale- her eyes a milky grey that looked almost blind, they were ugly, she knew that. She didn’t even bother to remember her father telling her how unique they were, she was still made fun of and Asch knew they were right. Her hair was lush at least, clean and soft. It was white, a most pale blonde that maybe got her a look once or twice, it was never enough to get someone’s attention though. 

Asch was almost too out of it to hear the subtle sounds of wings fluttering beside her, but the person in her peripheral vision was enough to get her to lull her eyes away from her own sad expression onto the same tight and strange one of the angel Castiel. 

He looks at her a long moment, maybe assessing her, maybe not. Asch looks at him, but isn’t exactly able to make him out. “You did not tell me your name.” His pleasant voice- and it was really pleasant, at least to her- filters the stale air and sort of snaps her into the present. Asch swallows down another gulp of whisky and shrugs “‘m sure you know it already.” She mumbles, she can just barely tell he’s perplexed by the comment. “Yes. But it would be rude to not ask you.” He says, once more in a most factual tone. Asch scoffs, the heavy taste of whisky weighing her tongue, “Asch.” She still offers, though she doesn’t understand why. 

Castiel nods, and is silent, Asch waits for him to leave, not really wondering why he came, maybe Dean had said it was rude of him not too, because he spoke to Sam as well as him, but didn’t seem very interested in the third hunter among the Winchester’s.

“Why are you drinking?” He asks her, looking odd just standing there like a statue. Asch grips the glass bottle tightly as she brings it to her mouth for another swig, swallowing the dull burn before shrugging again, “Why not?” His face twists a little, maybe in distaste, maybe in another unpleasant way, Asch can’t tell. “What does it taste like?” He asks. Asch lets herself laugh a little, rubbing her finger into the label, “Like honey, angel.” Castiel blinks, a rather adorable look of confusion crosses his face “I've never been called that before.” 

Asch is momentarily confused, her words slurring together must have made it sound like- “You are a beautiful creation. My father would not be happy you are hurting yourself.” Asch in that moment felt more sober than she had ever, with a soft fluttery sound, Castiel was gone.

And Asch felt just a little special then. 

Castiel didn’t show up much after that, when he did it was to speak with Dean and Sam. Asch had nothing to do with whatever they discussed. She was caught up after the fact. He didn’t look at her, didn’t even acknowledge she was there, she might as well been apart of the furniture. She sat there, sipping beer while they whispered, Asch didn’t mind, wasn’t bothered by their secrets, that they told her what little she needed to know despite being family. Maybe they weren’t after all, maybe blood was really better then the thing she thought they had. 

They trusted her, but they didn’t tell her things. 

Did that make her bitter? Maybe. But she bit back her anger, set her jaw and looked out the dingy window. “We’re gonna get some supplies.” Sam says, “Stay here and watch the stuff yeah?” Asch lifts her head, a half nod in response, she hears them leave, but she doesn’t move. Asch didn’t realize the angel was still there until his coat made a soft rustling noise as he walked over and right up to her.

She didn’t speak, her eyes move toward him, looking sideways and catching his tortured, pensive expression. Whether it was hesitation, or just unsure of what to say, the angel finally spoke in a gentle way that she noticed was purely reserved for her. “They do care,” he says as if she’s suppose to understand what he meant. “They’re protective of you.” He sounded firm, honest. But still as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, like something was hanging there that he wanted to grab but couldn’t. 

Asch doesn’t respond, he shifts, slightly. “I...” there was the hesitation. Asch didn’t know angels could even feel that. “I liked what you called me.” Asch turns her head her face furrowed, Castiel swallows harshly, and it’s noticeable because of how close he chose to stand next to her, if she didn’t know any better he looked nervous. 

“Honey Angel...” he mutters, and Asch exhales a little laugh, a little joy in her empty chest, “Yeah?” She finally decides to say looking at him with a little unguarded amusement. Castiel seems to unfurl a little, his stance less ridged, a very tiny smile touching the corner of his lip. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I see you.” She says, lifting her beer to her mouth again, grinning around the bottle. Castiel tilts his head slightly, a little pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, “Would you wish there to be a next time?” He wonders aloud, airy, playing it off as if he doesn’t care. 

Asch lets the good feeling coast her next response, a smile spreading across her lips, “Sure Honey Angel. There can be a next time.”

Asch looks away and she can hear the flutter of his wings bank through the air, she's alone. But she doesn’t feel so alone. 

She’s in the car next time Castiel makes himself known, she’s in the back, her legs were rested up on the other seat, she was listening to the soft roll of the music while Dean drove and Sam flipped through some files. Asch felt her legs lift up, propped and cushioned in the angels lap. Dean jumps, the car swerving on the road “Dammit Cass.” He says more exasperated than anything else. 

Castiel was looking at her, his posture ridged and straight, but not from the weight of her legs on him. “Hello Asch.” Asch smiles warmly, content as she feels his hands loosely clamp onto her jeans, his thumbs absently rubbing. “Hi Honey Angel,” she whispers, not loud enough for anyone but him to hear. Castiel has the slightest smile on his face and gives it only to her, ignoring the questions thrown over the seats. 

“Cass what the fuck are you doing here?” Dean barks finally, annoyed until the angel flicks his pretty eyes over to him. “I had thought I might sit with you for a moment.” Both the brothers look at him oddly, Asch however is washed in a content feeling, her head resting back as Castiel looks back over to her “What the hell for? Aren’t you busy trying to keep the seals from breaking?” Dean grumbles rolling onto a dirt road. 

“If my presence troubles you, I will part.” Castiel says flatly, but Asch nudges him lightly before he finishes, knowing full well that he would leave unless something stopped him. “Hey unh-unh. Stay here as long as you want sweetheart.” Castiel’s mouth parts slightly, the seal of his lips separating and she can see his white teeth, “I will stay then.” 

Asch hums, happily digging herself into the leather seat, “Tell me a story, hm?” She says to him, becoming very comfortable as his fingers absently stroke into her legs. “I don’t know any stories.” He says, looking at her with a slight furrowed brow, his eyes full of questions. Asch looks warmly at the expression, a tilt in her mouth “Tell me about God and Onan.” Castiel blinks, and the car is quiet. Dean can’t be heard, the pages in Sam’s hands are silent. 

And Castiel looks at her in wonder.

He turns slightly, stiff and awkwardly, “God came from the heavens and slew Onan for disobeying him.” Asch laughs and he is confused as to why, “I do not understand.” He says plainly, licking his lips slightly. “Tell me all of it. Not what I can skim in the bible.”

Castiel clears his throat, flicking his gaze toward Sam and Dean, then they return to her. “Er the first son was slain by god for disobeying Judah. His second son, Onan was tasked with providing Er’s widow with a true heir.” Castiel begins, voice soft but carrying through the car as a melody. “Onan was a cautious man, a nervous man. He did not take this task lightly, but he dared not disobey his father. He lay with his brothers widow, but could not bring himself to empty himself within her.” Asch sighs, the sound of Castiel’s voice lulling her eyes shut. 

“God slew Onan for his insolence along with the widow.” Asch had eased into a gentle sleep, but Dean looks rattled, a bit sick and pale “Dude what the fuck.” Is all he says, Sam sharing the sentiment. Castiel opens his mouth, but notices through the corner of his eye that Asch had fallen asleep and decides to forgo a response, letting himself continue to rub his fingers into her leg, unsure of what brought him to do so in the first place. 

It was another time, another moment by the car when he came to them. Dean parked in the wet grass, they were watching the thunderstorm above them. Asch grinned in the back seat, pushing between the seats and dialing the volume up and laughing out loud when they both looked at her oddly, but she didn’t spare them a second before she whipped open the back door and pounced outside, spinning in the grass and giggling into the heavens. 

They stare at her, shocked smiles on their faces as she dances to the sound of rock.

There wasn’t anything special about today, nothing new or exciting, they were just taking a moment to appreciate the spark of lightening and rain. She was soaked through, her bones heated by her spinning and dancing. Asch collided with Castiel, pausing as hair wetly clung to her face. He looks at her, his face getting wet, “Dance with me Cass!” She cheers, smiling at him and grabbing his hand as she spun in the grass. 

Castiel does not move, just simply watches her spin around with his hand in hers, both of them getting wet. She laughs, and he only tilts his head in disbelief. The music dulls out around them as she stops, her heart pounding in her chest and legs exhausted. She realizes there is no rain hitting her face any longer and blinks in confusion, looking up at the heavens to find something blocking the heavy pour from hitting her. 

“This is quite foolish.” He shouts over the boom of the thunder. Asch pulls her hair out of her face, smiling around the water rolling off her face “Humans can get sick doing such things.” He almost sounds scolding, Asch laughs, shivering slightly as she wipes her naked arms free of the raindrops “Humans die doing this!” She smiles, making him stare flatly at her, frustration clear in his face, his hand wet but warm in hers. 

Castiel shrugs his coat off, almost a roll of his eyes as he swings it over her wet shoulders. Asch giggles, pulling it around her, watching his suit grow wet from the downfall. “You should not be out here.” He sounds caring, his voice thrumming alive with something, concern, worry. Asch doesn't care and sighs happily, his coat full of the scent of aftershave and angel. 

Asch smiles as he awkwardly nudges her back to the car where the boys are laughing, enjoying the sight maybe, or the storm in their own way. He doesn’t not take his coat from her, he will. 

But not now. 

The next time she sees him, it wasn’t any special occasion. She was sitting, legs up on a table, her heeled boots dig into the ledge as she cleans her gun. The Winchester’s were in a similar fashion, their fingers picking at imperfections of their pistols and knives. Castiel snaps into the middle of the room, his coat flapping slightly as he surprises them all. Asch leans her head back and smiles at him, because he was already looking at her, those intense sparkling baby blues burning holes into her. 

“Hi Honey Angel,” she coos, unashamed at her own breathy tone. She was messing with him, but he clearly didn’t catch onto that. “Hello Asch.” He says, a little fondness there. The Winchester’s look at her with the most baffled expressions, Dean was pink in the cheeks, “Honey what now-?” He bursts out, his mouth open, a little twinge in his face. “A nickname simply, Dean.” Castiel explains away, and Asch could see there was pinkness in his cheeks at he sweeps his eyes across the room back to her. 

“Right....” Dean rolls the word, looking a little strange, “What did you want Cass?” His leveled gaze doesn’t leave hers now, they were in a contest, of which one of them would look away first. “I need to speak with Asch. Alone.” She blinks and she is standing beside him in a field with grass that goes up to her knees. He stands there looking over the field with scrutiny “Do you hold affection for me?” His question catches her off guard, but somehow she feels so utterly at peace here. 

“It is important that you tell me.” Castiel says, unable to look at her face. Asch glares at the side of his face, “Cass... why are you asking me this?” He turns then, looking at her and battling something in himself, she can see it in his expression, the tight, twitching in lips. “Something needs to happen. I was told, commanded to do this thing. Before the seals are broken. Before it is too late.” 

Asch stares at him, her feet scraping the grass as she backs away from him slightly, “I need to know you won’t hate me for what I must do.” He doesn’t move to her, he stands as she backs away from him, but soon she can go no further, “What Cass? What is it you have to do?” There was fear pumping through her veins, the taste clammy on her tongue and ashen in her throat. Her heart beats like a chiming bell, banging and batting against her rib cage almost as if it was trying to spring out of her chest. 

“There is a prophecy that one so pure, untouched by mortal taint shall be known by an angel and deliver the seed of a son and blanket the world in grace unknown.” His words are like a gong, ringing out in an empty hall. Her eyes are wide, she gulps, backing right into the invisiable shield that she can’t seem to pass through. 

“What- Cass what?!” Asch pants, her chest raising and falling too fast for comfort. “You must bear the child of an angel. And I must do this.” Castiel advances, careful, as if he was approaching a dangerous animal. Asch shakes her head, “No- what- Cass no-!” Castiel jerks his face away, a huff of _exasperation_? _Frustration_? Perhaps something else, escapes him. “If I do not do this.” He swallows harshly, eyes pointedly away from her face, looking passed into the tree line “Another angel will. I ask you to do this. They will not.” 

“Cass. Please. No- I- don’t- I don’t want this.” Asch shakes her head violently, cringing away from him, her arms pressed firmly against her chest, as if guarding herself like that would do anything. “This is necessary.” Castiel mumbles, his hand reaching to her shoulder, slipping her tank top slightly off her shoulder. Asch jerks, in a panic “Wait- whoa- no! Cass!” She squeaks, shoving at his chest, it causes him to hesitate, a terribly pained look on his face “Please don’t make this any harder...” he pleads with her, short breathes escaping him. 

Asch feels her heart thrumming, hurting her ribs, the grass was no longer tickling her legs, the air stale and foggy. Sam and Dean were lingering there in the motel room, looking at the scene before them with tight confusion “You are a daughter of Adam.” He says, taunting her ears. Asch shook violently in his embrace, searching for something she couldn’t find, not knowing what she was looking for in the first place. “I will leave you until tonight. But this must be done.” Asch feels his coat fade from her hands, no longer in her grip, a noisy exhale is wretched out of her mouth as tears fall out of her eyes. 

Sam shares a tortured expression with Dean, his boots thumping into the carpet as he replaces Castiel’s body, his hands coming up to her arms where his were. Asch snaps like a band, jerking like a wave in the ocean. Sam panics and almost loses his purchase on her, she feels her knees shake and stop supporting her. Sam has her, Sam doesn’t let her go until her heavy panting quits out to exhaustion and he heaved her onto the lumpy bed beside them. 

They sit like that for hours. 

Asch cages herself within her arms, staring at nothing as absent tears trickle out of her eyes, her vision had long blurred but bless the two brothers, they don’t ask. They call Bobby, at least she thinks they do because when he shows up it doesn’t register, only Sam’s hand on her knee does anything to the shell of herself. 

“He called her ‘a daughter of Adam.’ Bobby what does that mean?” The words were hateful, shoving into her ear like an unwanted tick. Asch flinches when she comes back to herself, her mouth felt heavy and full of tacky cotton, clinging to her teeth and throat. 

“Number a things.” He mutters, he was leaning into the table as he throws down an old fabric covered book. He thumbs through the pages, throwing his hand up, “Human women, but I dunno what it means.” Asch tears her eyes from the carpet, Sam Immediately jolts from the unexpected action, “Asch.” She stares at Dean, he was searching her for something, pleading with her silently. “What is Cass talking about? What does he want?” 

The questions were loaded guns lining up like a firing squad, Asch feels her stomach churn, throat jumping as she forces herself to answer, “H-He said I... I have to... f-fulfill a p-prophecy-“ Asch shoots her face away clenching her teeth tightly together, begging that to be enough for them, unable to bear speaking the whole thing. Bobby snaps his fingers, flipping through the book, the dusty pages flying until he finds what he wants. Dean tries to look over it, but it is in no language he understands.

“Tell me he didn’t?” Bobby presses out through clenched teeth. Dean huffs in frustration, “Will one of you catch us up?!” Bobby swings the book shut, wiping his hand over his sweaty face before shaking his head, “Come outside.” Asch tucks her feet underneath her as Sam tears himself away, following the two of them. 

In the silence embarrassment began to flood her, her face and chest hot with mortification at the mere thought of them knowing. Asch buries her face into her hands, shakes overwhelming her when she hears a harsh thump and Dean roaring Cass into the fading day. He doesn’t come of course, the three of them pile into the room again and Asch can’t look at their faces as they awkwardly stand there, edging around the table as the tension of this unsaid thing hangs between them. 

Asch almost wishes Castiel got it over with then and there, it would have been better than all of them knowing it.

“What’s uh. The um. Advantage exactly?” Sams voice was squeaky, he was likely red in the face but Asch wouldn’t look up from her hands to find out. Bobby fields the question, seemingly already having a great understanding of it “Book says when a nephilim is born it’s grace is more potent than anything.” His tone was even, not awkward like Sam’s. 

“Even an archangel?” Dean asks. 

“Even an archangel.” Bobby grunts, Asch can hear him moving through the motel, the comfortable weight of his hand “You ain’t gotta do this.” He whispers, his calming voice flooding her chest. “Cass said it was going to happen whether I liked it or not.” She rasps our the words, “He isn’t going to make you do anything!” Sam scoffs in disbelief, Asch wipes her face clean of tear trails, a lump too thick in her throat to respond. 

Bobby leans his head back toward the two, “it’s just gotta be angel. Doesn’t matter which angel.” 

“This is total crap! They need consent to use vessels but this they don’t?!” Dean’s exasperated snarl was left hanging there like a corpse on a rope, swaying between all of them as it became painfully clear what was going to happen “Why don’t they need it for... for this?!” 

“Because Adam pronounced his daughters wives of the celestial beings.” Castiel’s voice punctures the tension and Asch is frozen in the bed, Pretty blue eyes staring at the floor. “Cass you son of a bitch-“ Dean makes to hit him, clear on his jaw, it only moves the angels head to the side and his eyes catch hers. 

Asch tears her eyes away from his face, and suddenly they were alone in a room lit by a firelight. It soaked the room in dancing flames. She shuts her eyes tightly when she notices the bed beside them. “They’re going to hate you for that.” It was a dry, awful attempt at humor. Castiel was never good with it. “Will you?” The familiar conversation had her twinging slightly, his presence radiating heat directly behind her. She spins around, he was slightly taller then her, not by much but enough it was noticeable, she had to tilt her chin up to look at his eyes fully. 

There was torture, pain and wreck swimming in his gaze, amalgamation of the churning she can feel inside herself. His throat bobs, his Adam’s apple rising painfully slow around something hard in his throat. Asch flicks her eyes to it, watching as she commits the stubble on his neck to memory. He was handsome, she forgets for a moment this was the face of an unknown mortal man. For now he is just _Cass_. 

Asch’s eyes flutter shut, her lashes wet and sticky, things would be stolen from her tonight. Whether Castiel knew exactly what he was doing, she couldn’t tell. Asch pushes his coat off his shoulders, it sags around his bent elbows, she thinks about hunting, the Winchester’s and how much she’ll miss their faces when she can no longer go with them. His coat slips noisily into the floor, pooling around his feet like a nimbus. Asch wasn’t wearing as many layers as he was. Her jeans and tank top would be trivial to take off, but Castiel doesn’t try this time, and she doesn’t either. 

She exhales harshly through her teeth when his soft, dry lips press a feather soft kiss onto her forehead. Asch pulls his tie loose, throwing it away into the room, uncaring of where exactly it landed. “Asch.” His voice was so rough, caught gears in a chainsaw trying to start. Asch braves herself, lifting her chin and forcing her eyes open. Castiel is already looking at her, but his eyes are burnt of the pretty blue color, instead their coal black chunks surrounded by a White Sea and the smallest sliver of blue.

Asch hates what it pulls inside her stomach for a second, but she exhales all the breath in her chest, he was just a man and she just a women. Asch rushes up on her toes and captures his mouth, it could be worse, it could be a horribly different situation. But she was here, with him. _With Castiel_. She could forgot why just for the night. 

Castiel is shocked, he doesn’t do anything, but Asch doesn’t think he knows how. She tugs his head, pulling at the butter soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. Unlike with anyone else, he bends to her, allowing whatever she desired. Asch cups his cheeks, sliding hands though his hair and making it messy. Castiel was stiff, his mouth barely moving against hers. Asch parts, panting into his face, there is something there in his dark eyes though, something pushing at the floodgates. 

He breathes, cautiously, staring at her. Asch eases back onto her feet, licking her mouth and looking timidly up at him. He looks disheveled, his tie cast off and his coat a mess. As soon as she felt a shiver it became warmer. Candles lighting the room along the dresser, a couple by the bed. Asch worries they might catch something and start a fire, but as she looks at the light they provide, she looks at the shadows there too. 

Castiel’s wings were blanketed along the floor. The little feathers at the end twitch with life. It should have been beautiful, a wonderful thing to behold. “Would you like to see them?” He mutters, sounding a little unsure and guarded. Asch springs her eyes back to his face, staring momentarily at the flush across his cheeks “I-“ she can’t seem to speak, uttering out a broken attempt. Castiel knows her thoughts however and nods once, he doesn’t move and the shadows don’t seem to change, but up his back, as if shimmering into the light, came thick, floor dusting wings. They are as black as nothingness, they ruffle, shake a little as he extends them in the now seemingly too small space. 

They look shiny, Asch thinks they were slick with oil of some kind, but she can’t be sure by sight alone. She wouldn't touch them, he seems to strung out for that, like he was bashful, tentative to show them. As if he was _shy_. 

Castiel looks so exposed then, his shoulders hiked slightly, apprehension struck all across his face. He keeps them this way, tucked a little in his body, curled and protected from abuse, as if she would do something foul to them. His hands go for the white buttons, pulling them free and shrugging his shoulders out of the garment. Asch hadn’t realized when, but she began to shuffle backward, it was only apparent when she bumped into the side of the bed, having no more room to escape and indignantly trips back into it, her face jerking to where she can see Castiel towering over her from the edge, his legs brushing her own. 

His chest was fine, hidden by all the large layers of clothes. His arms are muscled and thick, his stomach is chiseled, carved muscles like a marble statue. There were no wounds or marks anywhere her eyes could see. Asch felt embarrassed for herself, she had plenty for the both of them. Castiel suddenly scoots her forward, making her squeak at the force, he climbs over her, his brow furrowed in thought. Asch holds her palms against his warm skin, unable to hold onto any kind of thought when she feels his fingers at the edge of her tank top, lifting. 

Asch doesn’t cause him trouble where she could, letting him pull it off and place it somewhere on the bed. Her sports bra also went with it, lost among the fluffy bedding and sheets. She feels cold under him, pressing her arms over her bear breasts, hiding them from his sight as his dark eyes trail downward. The next to go was her tight jeans, he pulls them off without much fuss, though she did try to make some, squirming in his hands as everything is dragged off her. Her knees knock together, hiding as best she was able. Castiel’s wings shake slightly, the sound drawing her eyes away from him. Maybe he intended that, a little distraction as he removes the remains of his own clothes, because she can feel his bare body caress her own as he climbs properly into the bed. 

Asch felt so much shame raise in her stomach, bubbling over at the thought of Dean and Sam knowing exactly what they were doing. Asch never considered herself a private person, she shared motel rooms with the boys for a long time now, but the mere idea of them knowing about this, how she was supposed to lay with an angel- with _Castiel_ and carry his baby. That was too much. 

There was a mercy in the strange and gentle kiss Castiel planted on her naked knee, she blinks away the darkness and focuses on Castiel once more. His wings made shadows around their body, her belly was decorated with his feather’s shadow, she feels his palm pressing her thigh open, his fingers so dangerously close to her. Castiel props other her knee onto his hip, reaching through his wing for a little clear bottle. Asch thumps her head into the mattress when she hears him pop the cap and squeeze the oil onto his fingers. 

She tenses when his fingers ghost over her, flinching as they slide up her. Castiel noisily clears his throat, focused, but red in the face as he toys her open. There was a stir in her stomach, yanking at her suddenly as he circles her clit with his sopping fingers. The oil is sticking to her, leaving her messy and uncomfortable, but Castiel is doing wonders to distract her. How he knew to do this was beyond her, if she was focused enough she might ask, but Dean was likely the reason. 

Two of his fingers slide her open, slipping slightly inside of her before gliding back up. A choked noise escapes her, her hips twitching slightly. Asch forces her mouth open with a large sigh, letting go the smallest moan as he gently pushes into her, his thumb ever attentive to her bud. The drag of his fingers hurt, at first, she had never had anything inside of her before this, not even her own fingers. They were rough, hardened by callous’, the thickness of the two made her feel full and overwhelmed as she twists onto them, burying them as deep as they could go. 

Castiel seems to freeze, halt as she rolls her hips, taking his fingers with little whimpers. Asch doesn’t notice, but a third joins the two and she bears down onto them, her cunt squeezing around them. Castiel watches, simply, with unreadable and hooded eyes as she begins to lose herself to the pleasure, sliding herself onto them as her insides tighten. Castiel holds her hip, pulling and pushing his fingers into her gently, Asch pants, biting her lip raw, chasing the feeling until she’s overcome with it and breathlessly shouts, “ _C-Cass...”_

His fingers don’t pause, they drag slowly, tugging the pleasure out of her in little waves that have her writhing against the sheets, breathless and lungs begging for air. When he finally lets her free it’s a relief, a cold and stony one when it dawns on her that he was preparing himself between her thighs. She could feel his hand sliding against himself, his wings betraying what his face doesn’t, twitching in emotion and flexing slightly. Asch tries to close herself off, move away from him and shut her wet thighs together. Castiel’s hips stop her, she wasn’t able to scamper off as she wished, pinned down by his hungry eyes. 

Asch swallows desperately when she feel the wet tip of his cock brush into her thigh. Castiel leans down, getting comfortable, wrapping her legs around him. Asch presses her lips into a thin line. “I’m sorry.” He mutters into her neck, his cock pushing into her, guided by his hand. Asch tried hard to silence the sound that punches out of her mouth, a wail that was broken and beaten as it rings around the empty room. The keening awful sound is tugged out of her as Castiel buries his face into her neck, forcing himself until his cock was full inside her. There was a sharp ache throbbing between her legs, her heart was pounding, pushing at her ribs.

Castiel moves, and Asch grips his arms, sobbing into the bedding, the wet sound of his cock sliding into her was sickening. _Why had it hurt so?_ Was it because the man rutting into her was no man at all? Was it a cruel, final dig at her? The chosen daughter of Adam must suffer another pain. Castiel kisses her tears, trying as tender as he can to lighten her misery. 

His hips roll with his thrusts, pushing into her tight cunt, her breasts pressed flatly against his chest. Castiel hisses sharply against her throat, feeling her thrumming pulse there and against his breast. His eyes shut as he groans, it felt hot, tight, just squeezing him. He could feel his thighs grow wet, tarnished with her blood, but doesn’t look because he doesn’t have the heart for it. Asch’s little whimpers become muted, her body ridged but not resisting him any longer. Her nails claw down his skin, but hurt nothing and leave no mark there. When her fingers slip dangerously close to where his wings connect he jerks into her with more force than he wanted, prompting a squeak to erupt from her mouth and a deep color to bloom across her cheeks. 

Castiel presses on, guilty of the pleasure he finds between her legs, soaking the feeling of her cunt fluttering around him, Asch paws at his hair, scraping her hands through his scalp, it makes a guttural moan roll from his throat and she wiggles under him. Castiel breathes raggedly against her neck, his cock shoving into her with little concern now as he feels his end mounting. Asch grabs him, digs her nails into his flesh, gouging it with crescent wounds before they heal. Castiel stills, a growl ripping from his throat as he empties inside of her. 

Asch pants in his ear, legs shaky as they slip down his hips and onto the bed, her feet planted in the fluffy sheets. Castiel doesn’t move until his cock has gone soft, he rolls into his side, his wings tucked into his body. “I can... wait until morning to return you.” He says, composing himself. Asch pants wildly, the firelight dancing across her wet skin so pretty. “Please.” She utters, unable to say anything else. Castiel waits there a moment, making a wonder of whether or not she wanted him to leave. Asch doesn’t say anything, they simply lay together, catching their breath.

Asch didn’t know what possessed her to pulls the sheets over them both, but Castiel stays, she stares at the ceiling. It could have been any normal night, for any normal man and women.

_But they were no such thing and nothing would be normal ever again._


	5. Castiel dabbles 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel/Asch Cinnis 
> 
> My babies 
> 
> Enjoy!

Waking up was a slow, agonizing process. The light was cloaked in a dark shade, stemming off the full impact of the sun, but it hurt no less when her eyes ease open and catch the dull rays. 

Asch covers her eyes with an arm, her knees folded one over the other as she lays out, her thighs aching with a simmering burn. Asch throws her head to the side, while her face scrunched tightly, she buries her nose into the sheets and is assaulted by the soft spring scents and almost heaves, in fact any warm and tired feeling she had was shot when her stomach violently jerked and Asch’s eyes flew open as she flung off the bed into the bathroom. 

Bless the little things, at least there was a fuzzy rug wrapped around the toilet so her knees didn’t smash into the marble below her as she expels her stomach, the wretched taste of day old diner food tingling her tongue. Asch grabs her hair messily when she has the moment, no doubt there was bits already in her hair but the less the better at this point. The wash of dizziness came next in an instant, accompanied by her heaving she also begun to feel clammy, wet and sweaty all at once. 

Asch spits the remains of it from her mouth, sitting back on her legs, jaw aching as she huffs through clenched teeth. “Morning sickness.” Asch has gotten used to the unexpectedness of angels, he might have even been here the whole time, Asch didn’t think to check. Before she can say anything, she heaves again. It’s only bile now, having nothing left in her belly to throw up, but her stomach was trying, churning and clenching. Asch forces it back, wiping her wet mouth with the back of her hand, curling her lip in disgust when she can smell it already in her hair. 

Asch looks through the curtain of hair that she couldn’t grab away from her face, she can see Castiel’s legs and his coat swaying lightly. “You now carry the seed of an angel.” He says to her, so casually. Asch flicks her gaze up toward him, but his eyes were cast away “Yours.” She grinds out, Castiel swallows, “Yes. Mine.” She prompted the omission, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. She retches again. 

Asch sat there in front of the toilet for a long time, what little she knew about pregnancy was that this shouldn’t have happened so fast, but the father was an angel and what little she knew, she knew it wouldn’t be helpful to her. When Asch finally did drag herself from the floor Castiel wasn’t in the doorway anymore, he was all but gone and Asch was fine with that. 

Asch pushes the nobs of the shower, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet waiting for the water to warm up. She couldn’t imagine standing would be a bright idea so she sat on the porcelain bottom and cleaned her hair vigorously, scrubbing the shampoo and conditioner through her hair twice before feeling clean. Asch felt no aches or pains between her thighs any longer, Castiel must have spared her the kindness of healing it before he vanished. At least, almost everything was healed. With her fingers she absently felt what he had taken. She doesn’t dwell on this, doesn’t let it invade her thoughts for more than a mere moment before she is getting out of the shower and toweling herself off. 

Her clothes were in a neat pile and Castiel was truly no where, but there was however a door that had not been there before. Asch dresses quickly, throwing her loose top over her head as she approaches it, glaring in suspicion. It shouldn’t have made her, but it did. Asch turns the bar handle, pushes it lightly open, she was shocked to find she was somehow faced with Bobby’s living room, but Bobby was no where to be found as she stepped through. 

She glances back when she hears the click of the door, but there was no longer a door there to begin with. Asch touches the dingy wall, swiping her hand over its flat surface. “Asch?” Bobby sounded relieved behind her, like all the stress stung up in his body had slid through his exhale. Asch tears her gaze from the wall, her inspection all but over. “Are you alright?” Bobby was just as much a father to her as Sam and Dean were brothers and she couldn’t hide how she really felt behind a stiff gaze and a tight jaw. 

He comes over when she doesn’t respond, his hand stretched out and reaching for her shoulder. Asch crumbles a little, knowing that he knows. That was the worst part of it, but he didn’t say anything or make anything out of it. _He just._

He helped her sit down. 

It’s quiet, for a time. Bobby gave her water and warmed toast and didn’t ask. He might have wanted to, but he didn’t. Asch knew better but she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it, what it meant or what would happen now. She knew it would make her feel better, to just get whole embarrassing thing out of the way. Bobby didn’t make her, but he did make a phone call. 

Sam and Dean weren’t exactly sure how they should act around her, and that was the worst. Dean was angry, down right furious at Castiel, first they did what anyone would and asked if she was _okay_. She lied and they knew it. Then Dean started calling for Castiel, screaming at him to get down here, Asch wasn’t sure she could handle seeing him right now, it was too uncomfortable, too mortifying. 

Asch didn’t know what to get in order first, Dean, Sam or herself. They were angry at Castiel, _was she?_ Asch couldn’t really focus and started to feel overwhelmed, with the suddenness of it all she rushed to the bathroom, and threw up what little she got into her stomach. Dean was there this time, his hands lifting her hair away, he wasn’t bothered by any of it, they’ve all seen and smelt worse. He sat there with her until it was over, soothing a hand across her spine and holding her hair in his hand until she swallows the remains and grimaced.

Dean carries her up, one arm slung around her back and the other on her stomach. Asch didn’t feel in the present, didn’t feel like she was all there when they sat down. 

“We have to talk about this.” Sam utters, shattering the illusion of peace she had. Dean’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw flexing, Asch was staring off into the room, close to Sam’s feet where there was a stain, she knew that stain. She was the one that made it. “What’s there to say Sammy?” Dean asks, turning on the sofa slightly, his hand dangling between his legs, the other on her knee. His eyes were narrowed just enough to count as a threat. 

“Dean it’s a whole hellva lot to unpack.” Sam counters with his own distaste, a fouled up face. “What about the fact Cass isn’t even here?” Dean scoffs, his shoulders moving and his eyes rolling with the whole dramatic show of it. “Cass comes and goes you know that.” 

“So just like that... even after?” Sam vaguely, uncomfortably gestures to Asch, a flat glare his only answer. Asch felt a bubble of shame warble out, “Oh god enough,” it was ripped out of her, chinks of chains pulled out of her beaten armour, leaving her ripped raw and bare. “Just. I don’t want to talk about this. Just. Fuck.” She was breathless, collapsing into herself from the weight, “It’s nothing we have to talk about alright?” She manages, rubbing her face pink. 

“Yes it is!” Sam barks, his hands thrown up, “You just fulfilled some prophecy aren’t you freaked?!” 

Asch throws her head up, eyes wide and sharp with fury, “Yes- yes fuck is that what you want?! But we don’t have time for this!” Sam bites his cheek, a dejectedly kicked look coming over his face as he flattens his lips into a line. She was panting, overcome with emotions she wasn’t ready to have. “Hey hey hey,” Dean hurries out “Alright. Alright we won’t talk about it. Done deal, Asch.” Sam’s mouth opens a ridged toss of his head as he looks angrily at Dean.

“It’s done Sammy.” Sam scoffs, an exhale of disbelief and dry humour, “Fine. We haven’t been able to contact your baby daddy maybe you can.” Dean moves quick and shoves Sam with so much force the door frame of the den cracked loudly under the weight. “Hey!” Bobby’s sharp and intimidating boom stops both of them from advancing in the other. 

“Cass!” She shouts over the two bickering siblings, “I need you.” They all wait in silence, looking around the den, wondering where he might chose to manifest. Asch knows he won’t come, she clicks her tongue, throwing her hands up and shrugs, glaring at Sam “He doesn’t come when I call. He isn’t loyal to me just because he-“ she swallows, a snarl on her face “Just fuck off Sam.” 

Asch stomps out the door, slamming it behind her. Bobby’s auto yard used to be a mechanical jungle, a maze made to get you lost. Asch wouldn't admit she still might even after all the times she came around here. 

Asch stands among the cars, wondering if they would topple over.

“They won’t crush you. I wouldn’t allow that.” Castiel’s voice fills the space around her, stuck between the cars without escape. Asch knows he’s behind her, she can feel his coat brushing her legs. “I would have come when you called...” he sounds guilty, his hand brushed up her back, his knuckles grazing up her spine slightly “They hate you.” His hand stops in the middle of her back, “Do you?” His voice sounded so strung out, abused. Asch slowly looks over her shoulder at him. Castiel looked tortured, his eyes were dull and lifeless. 

Asch turns, his hand hangs. 

“I want to.” His face was blank, flat, but something akin to hurt swam in his eyes. 

Asch shakes her head of it, “Sam and Dean wanted something.” Castiel is pensive, but nods curtly, “They don’t need me for this.” Asch chews her cheek, kissing her teeth “They called you.” 

“I came for you. I don’t come for them.” Asch was desperate to will away the blush that came to her cheeks, how her heart practically jumps at the conviction in his voice, “Thanks...” she croaks, running her tongue over her teeth, “Honey Angel.” He perks, slightly, eyes wider and brighter, “I can see him.” Asch feels one finger press into her belly, just above the button of her jeans, he was mesmerized. “What... what does he look like?” Asch licks her lips, breath picking up slightly, “Like a little spot of light.” 

Castiel removes himself then, stepping back a full pace, “I don’t you know. Hate you.” His mouth was hung open, she hesitates, he watches her. 

She moves and he doesn’t. She walks until she feels the brush of his coat and the subtle sway of his tie. Asch lifts up on her tiptoes, she cups his stubbled cheeks, he eyes her, unmoving. Asch presses a kiss onto his soft, plump lips. Castiel awkwardly tries to return it. It was nice. _It was theirs._

Castiel breaks the kiss after a moment, his head aimlessly turning “I must go.” Asch stumbles slightly when he was no longer there to support her, she whips her gaze over to where he was looking and finds Sam and Dean standing there. 

Asch didn’t want to talk about it, but the ride up to the location Dean got called about was a long way. 

“So he does come when you call?!” Asch sighs angrily through her nose and tries to ignore Sam. “Whistle for your damned dog I got questions for him.” Asch shoves at Sam’s seat, roaring at his pigheadedness “He isn't a dog and he won’t come-“ “Yeah I get it. He won’t come because he doesn’t want to face us after the bullshit he pulled and you’re all to happy to let him off the hook.”

“Sammy you better shut your mouth,” Dean remarks, but does little else to quell the fury in his brother, she can see from the mirror he wants to, but he was driving on a highway with no turnoffs. “Why? Is Cass gonna stop me?” He makes a show of waiting for it, and looks smug when nothing happens. “See how much he cares.” He scoff loudly, rolling his eyes. Asch digs her nails into her palms, “Sam I’m gonna tell you one more time to drop it.”

“Or what? You gonna call Cass to come deal with me?” He was so cocky that she just about wanted too. “God what is your problem?!” Asch snaps, her stomach flipping again in a wave of nausea. 

“ _My problem?_ My problem is that you seem to have no problem with what Cass made you do!” Sam belts back, his face all pinched up and sour. The air in the impala was suffocating, she wanted to roll the windows down and expel the bitter taste. “Cass didn’t make me do anything! You heard Bobby- at least it wasn’t some fucking other angel, like Raphael!” 

“We would have protected you Asch! You just let him-“ “Alright enough already!” Dean interrupts, his voice booming, rattling the car, “Whatever is going on with her and Cass isn’t our business- dammit Sam. Let her be.” He’s tense in the seat, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. “They had sex and now there’s a fucking kid mixed up in all this bullshit. Take it out on Cass if you’re pissed and leave Asch alone.” There was a stint of silence, stretching for a mile before Dean spoke again. 

“We’re here.” 

It wasn’t a busy town, Dean was uncomfortable, they didn’t tell her why. They got a room, but they didn’t stay. 

Asch doesn’t bother to wait for them, she doesn’t think they need her for whatever they plan to do next. She snatches the room key and bolts up the stairs, promptly swinging and slamming the door shut. Asch holds a hand over her mouth to stop herself, but she violently heaves, darting to the bathroom and emptying her stomach again. It was awful all over again, it didn’t matter how many times she had already thrown up, it was still has bad and unexpected as the last time. 

Asch wipes her mouth on her arm and doesn’t even care about how disgusting it was as she slips back and just flops into the tub- or she thought her back would connect with the tub and not the hard, warm body of someone behind her. “Hey Honey-“ Asch scrambles back to the toilet before she can finish, retching again. Castiel is silent, the back of his hand stroking into her spine like before. It was a familiar comfort. Asch pulls the chain and lulls her head to look at Castiel. It isn’t lost on her that she’s leaning her face into a motels toilet. 

Cass doesn’t seem to look at her differently, not in disgust like she thought he might. “Are you alright?” Asch pulls her hair back, returning to the spot between his open legs as she nods. It looked a little silly to see the angel on the floor like that, then a thought came to her “Aren't your wings squished?” 

“Incredibly.” Asch laughs softly at his words, tugging him up, he helps her steady, “‘m dizzy Cass.” It doesn’t take more than that for him to pick her up, cradling her knees and back as he carries her out to the bedroom and placing her gently atop the covered surface. It smelt like mothballs and a previous guests perfume, she almost felt like she was going to retch again, but Castiel places his hand on her flat stomach and the nausea vanishes. 

“What are you doin’ here?” Asch asks, cradling his face. Dean hated how close he got, but Asch couldn’t find any heart to hate how he was crowding her personal space. “I sensed you were distressed. I...” he licks his lips, “Did not like it.” Asch felt her heart squeeze at that, thumb stroking his cheek “Wings okay?” She looks behind them as if she can see them. Castiel bobs his head “Yes.” 

Asch felt her throat jump, suddenly nervous as she retracts her hand hesitantly, Castiel tilts his head, puzzled by her actions. “Do angels feel emotions?” It must have been an odd question because he is quiet for a very long time, “Yes.” It was a soft and breathless reply. Asch squirms at the sound of his voice “Why am I getting sick? It’s only been a day?” Once more Castiel ponders her question, looking for the best way to answer like he always does with questions. Asch thought it was sweet he tired so hard. 

“You might be experiencing symptoms at an accelerated pace.” Castiel says simply. 

“How accelerated?” Asch’s eyes narrow in caution. Castiel purses his lips, “Our child will be fully formed within five months rather than nine.” Asch felt her mouth go dry, “You said... our...” Castiel’s brow furrows, “Yes? It is our child.” He says flatly, “Sam does not favour me for what I have done.” Castiel muses, but he does not sound bothered, Asch feels his hand resting atop hers. Asch bumps her head lightly into his, “S’okay Cass.” 

“Will you really come? When I call?” Castiel stares at her with _far_ too much intensity. 

“Anytime and every time.” His words make her shudder, a long suffering sound that escapes her lungs and lights up her heart. His cheeks tint a little pink, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips, licking his own “I like it when you kiss me.” His throat bobs under the knotted tie. Asch kisses the corner of his mouth in response and Castiel turns into it, stealing another. Asch hums, a sweet little smile on her lips as she threads her fingers through his unruly hair, scratching his scalp and delighted in the tiny purr it entices from him. 

Asch leans away, panting as Castiel tries to seek her mouth again, Asch tilts her head and felt his lips connect with her throat. He pauses gingerly, exhaling hotly against her skin. Asch brings her hands around his jaw, he was always so tense, but he melted a little around her. 

Asch presses one long chaste kiss on his mouth, barely separating enough to speak “Sit there for me?” It a very humble thing to ask an angel.

Castiel nods slowly, his forehead sliding against hers, she smiles timidly, her cheeks dusted with pink as she slips off the bed. Castiel’s face screws up in confusion, his mouth split open slightly. Asch has her hands on his thighs, he had no idea what she was trying to do, and that made her all the more nervous about doing it. 

There was innocence in his face, far too much of it, Asch goes for his belt, pulling it out of the loops, too focused and too embarrassed to look anywhere else but the clear arousal between his legs. Asch fumbles, her hands shake as she pulls his cock out. Castiel is silent when she pushes stray hair behind her ear and opens her mouth. 

Asch licks the tip, sliding her tongue over the flushed skin. Castiel exhales brokenly, his jaw tensed, Asch suckles the crown of his cock, swiping her tongue over the slit. She holds him gently in her hand, trying her best to bring him into her mouth. 

Castiel’s hand threads through her hair, a small moan escaping through his clenched teeth. Asch took as much of him as she could in her mouth, overly gentle because she was scared of her own teeth. Castiel’s hips twitch, his breath ragged and filtering through the room. Panic invaded her once she realized that at any moment Sam and Dean could come in, because they always shared one room. Her cheeks were hot, distracted with the thought until the sound of wood dragging on wood jerked into her ears.

Castiel kept her there on his cock, but she lifted enough from his lap to see that there was a dresser blocking the door. Asch, to her own peril brings her eyes up to his face and chocked a little on his cock when she caught his eye. His eyes were lust blown, lids heavy and mouth open. 

Asch swallows accidentally, and draws a sharp hiss from him. 

Asch uses her tongue, licking his cock as she moves inexpertly, her lips closing around it as he pets her hair. Castiel’s cock twitches, and Asch reels back a little, her pink, raw mouth only holding the head of him inside. Castiel groans, the sound is so deep and resonating it has her trying to take as much as she can of him before choking. Castiel tenses violently under her, his hand twisting her hair, but not daring to hurt her. “Asch.” It was like a command, an order.

It was sharp with something that made her pull off of him, his cock resting delicately on her lip, she looks up at him and he was breathing hard, aggressively through his nose. “Y-Yes-?” Her voice was so small, so wrecked. Castiel growls, handling her up from the floor, making her stumble into the bed as he hastily works her jeans off and onto the floor. Asch squeaks when his hands roughly grab her backside, pulling her into his lap with a force that knocked the wind out of her. 

It only takes one clear and intentional brush of his cock to make her shy. Castiel greedily breathes in her hair, his hands palming her hips as he impales her on his wet cock. Asch gasps nosily, unable to hide from him. Castiel pulls her up on his cock until only the head of him kisses her opening, consuming her mouth in a flurry of hot open-mouthed, tongue driven kisses as he drops her back down. The sudden fullness makes her whine, her nervous hands grabbing purchase on his suit and hair, shoving his coat down his arms in disarray. Castiel looks properly smug, smirking coyly as he bounces her on his cock, making Asch an absolute wreck. 

Asch whimpers breathlessly, tearing her mouth away, Castiel abuses the exposed column of her throat, licking and sucking the tender skin there. Asch wondered if he was going to leave a mark- then she hoped he would. “Cass...” she sighs, buzzing with pleasure, the angel grunts underneath her, pounding his cock into her wet and messy cunt. “Asch.” He says bluntly, raw and rough sounding, rocks sliding over other rocks. Asch felt herself clench, fluttering around him with each thrust. Asch arches into him, his head was bent backwards, staring up at her through pretty lashes. 

Asch grips his suit jacket, twisting the fabric, her other hand toying with the hair behind his head as she pushes herself down, desperate. Castiel lets her, is enamoured by her as she grinds down into him, chasing her release with little gasps of his name. She could feel every inch of his cock as its shoved inside her, scraping her walls. Asch feels her finish crash into her as she arches, she screams “Oh Cass-!” She’s helpless, squirming as he holds her with an iron grip, certainly leaving bruises. “Asch-“ he snarls, growling the last of the word as he goes ridged, his cock jerking inside of her as he violently spears her, spurting his warm and thick finish. 

One hand is gripping her hip, the other clawed at the small of her back, it already felt sore but Asch basks in the ache. Castiel doesn’t let her go, his breath is even, composed. Asch slides her hand away from his hair, placing it firmly against his chest. “I hurt you,” he says softly, his fingers ghosting over the already forming purple prints. Asch catches his wrists, to his confusion, “Leave them.” She whispers againt his lips, “I want them.” Her request has him frowning, his cheeks tinted red. 

Asch smiles, pressing her forehead into his. 

They had almost forgotten why they were here and they separate, Castiel helping her up from his lap and cleaning the mess that started to leak down her thighs. She smiles a little at the clear struggle in his face, the look in his eyes. When they finally get dressed again, Asch pets down the wrinkles in his coat, kissing his lips again “See you soon, Honey Angel.” Castiel couldn’t be called romantic, Asch didn’t think he knew what it was, but he made her heart flutter when he said; “You will.” 

Maybe just _maybe_ he was. 

It was about twenty minutes later Dean showed up at the door with take out in his hand and a case of beer in the other “Motel food is expensive,” he gripes, resting everything down on the dresser by the door. “Talked to this kid Adam. Might be a case here...” He trails off, as if he had more to say, his eyes were drawn to the gouged trail marks, his boot caught in one of them. 

He looks over, but he seems to have already figured it out, never mind the blooming love bite she has on the side of her neck. “So uh. Want me to ignore all this or?” Asch filters a brush through her hair, biting her lip “Are you gonna be like Sam?”

There was a hard, awkward pause between them. 

Dean runs a hand over this face, a little groan escaping him as he sits on the bed at the far end, leaving a lot of space between them. “If you don’t have a problem with Cass I don’t.” Relief flooded her, “Are you okay though?” He stresses it out, worried, “With all of this? I mean?” They were questions she didn’t really want to answer, but when Dean asked them she felt no pressure, like she had a choice. 

“Well- ah sorta?” Asch fumbles, cringing a little at herself “It’s pretty backwards I guess? And with an angel.” Dean doesn’t talk, doesn’t even look like he wants to try and say anything while she gets it all out. She really loved that about him. “You know, a kid first then... whatever we’re doing.” She felt too weird to call it a relationship, certainly couldn’t call Castiel her _boyfriend_ of all things. 

Dean snorts a little laugh out, “I guess he missed the memo about flowers.” Asch laughs with him, then sobers up, “Its alright Dean, it really is.” He bobs his head, “Good. Good, maybe the ball of feathers won’t ignore me now.” Dean throws, shrugging, “Look the call I got- he- this kid, thinks his dad is...”

“John.” Asch supplies, because that’s the only thing that comes to mind. Dean nods tensely, “Yeah. Tried salt, water and silver. Didn’t do anything.” 

“So you think it’s legitimate?” Asch asks, grabbing a beer, hesitating a moment and dropping it back down and going for a soda instead. Dean snorts in amusement, taking her forgotten bottle for himself “Might be. Can you stick around here and get a once over on what this might be?” Asch scoffs in disbelief “You're benching me?!” Dean reels back in his chair, eyes wide at her tone “Whoa- no- look he said his mom is missing. I need you to go through some stuff while we look around.” Dean mutters, eyes still wide, he runs a hand against the back of his neck “This isn’t about you being- you know...” 

Asch stares flatly at him, “Pregnant.” 

“Yeah. Look it isn’t about that- just lay low for this one.” Dean stresses, Asch shakes her head “There is no way I’m sitting.” 

_Asch should not have gone._

Asch beats on the walls, looking for any way out, digging at the cave in. Dean had found the actual body of Adam, almost heaving at the smell of it. “Ghouls- _ugh_.” He waves his hand, attempting to air out the smell “Think baby daddy will come and help us out?” Dean says, slamming into the side of rotting wood, “Dean I’m gonna kill you.” Despite the situation, he laughs, “Worth a shot right?” 

“You know I’m not gonna call him every time I’m in trouble.” Asch scoffs, just holding back a snarl “I’m a fucking hunter I don’t need my angel to come and get me out.” Dean looks mixed between smug and giddy, “You just called him your angel,” he teases, looking all to pleased with himself. Asch runs her tongue over her teeth, a huff of amusement escaping her as she says; “Damn right he’s my angel. Now quit it, let’s figure this out.”

They spend some time pushing and pounding on anything with a seam until Dean discovered a skylight. They smash it, guarding themselves from the glass that falls. Dean goes up first and grabs onto her, yanking her up out of the crypt. “We gotta go get Sammy-“ 

“Asch.” Castiel’s voice Interrupts, drawing the attention of them both. “Well look at that. Hiya Cass.” Castiel peers over at him, his face flat “Hello Dean. We have to go.” Castiel advances toward Asch, who backs up, Castiel eyes her strangely “Dean go collect Sam.” Asch huffs in irritation at his dismissal, watching him go, “I can’t let you go.”

“And why not?!” Asch snaps, Castiel presses his lips together, “You will get hurt in this exchange.” Asch throws her hands up “Cass I just told Dean that I’m not going to get saved by you every second something scary happens.” Castiel levels his gaze, steel and sleet. If Asch didn’t have a drill sergeant for a father she would have cracked like crumbling rumble under those sleek eyes. “You were going to die. I... I cannot let that happen.” 

Asch’s face twitches, her emotions running wild and unchecked, “Yeah I get it your baby. _Valuable goods_.” She spouts sarcastically, his face is struck, a wound sliced open “You are more than that.” He says softly, raw and stripped- almost in agony. Asch bites her lip harshly, “What am then Cass?” 

His lips part, the question must have been unexpected, “You are a daughter of-“ “Of Adam. I know. Makes me whatever to whoever. What am I to _you?!_ ” The flutter of his wings caught in her ear and in the blink of an eye he was right there, nose brushing her nose. 

_“Mine.”_


	6. Castiel dabbles 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel/Asch 
> 
> I can’t chill. I have. So many chapters of this story. I really hope you like this chapter. It’s very soft.
> 
> Enjoy!

Castiel was not a very animated angel, in fact he could be as still as he liked but only pretended to breathe because Dean told him how creepy it was. Castiel never did anything without reason, and there was little reason for him to do anything.

Asch was laying there, on another lumpy motel bed, her sleep calm for once, strange and beautiful. 

It was in her old home, before her mother and father were killed, it wasn’t sad now, the lights were on and the television was playing some show she couldn’t bother to pay attention too. _It was peaceful._

Daddy was sitting with his feet up in his old slippers while her mom was in the kitchen making cream for a pumpkin pie, it was thanksgiving and Asch was beside her, mashing potato’s. “Asch.” Castiel was there, but she never remembered him being apart of this dream before.

“What are you doing here Honey Angel? I think we’re way past you meeting my parents.” Asch giggles, still holding the bowl, though it didn’t seem so important anymore. Castiel smiles a little, and she loves that she can pull that out of him, even if it was barely anything. “I doubt sergeant Cyrus and missus Olive Cinnis would like me.” He says, looking behind him at the frozen image of her father. “They always were very religious, sex before marriage- mama might have gut you.” She says it so overly fond, tender eyes soaking in the image of her mother. Asch looked so much like her now, all the hair but none of the colour. 

Her mother might have had white hair, but her skin was rich and indigenous, Asch was pale as the moon and always hated it a little. “I’m sure you came here for something sweetheart, what was it?”

“I have something to tell you and Dean, it must be done privately. I cannot speak of it here.” Castiel whispers, there was a spark of agitation, nerves, “Did you already talk to Dean?” He shakes his head in a hurry, as if he has somewhere to be. Asch didn’t doubt it, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her either. “Wanna stay here for a while?” It was as if a weight fell off his shoulders, “I would yes.” Almost nothing and everything changed around them. 

Long gone were her parents and their house, but there she was still in a kitchen, Castiel was in a handsome grey suit, his coat hung over a oak stained chair. He was momentarily caught off guard, but it was her dream after all, and it had changed.

It wasn’t a humble kitchen, no in fact it was dark wood, expensive glittering tile and marble wherever it could go, counters, backboards- the floor. Asch hums in happiness, “I have never seen this dream.” Castiel says, brow furrowed into his eye line. “ I haven’t... either.” She says, looking at the pretty pink dress she wore, an apron covering it from getting dirty. 

Asch blinks, and looks at Castiel, he opens his mouth, but both of them are interrupted when excited patters come down the stairs, “Daddy daddy! Daddy’s home!” A little voice squeaked, Castiel flinches in shock as a child wraps around his leg, face buried into his pants. The boy couldn’t have been older than seven, his fluffy hair a soft grey colour, when he parts from Castiel, they both can see his crisp blue eyes. 

“This isn’t your dream.” Castiel says in utter disbelief, staring down at the child before him. The boy doesn’t react at all to what he says, bouncing around him like all over excited children. “Daddy daddy! Mommy and I missed you!” He says, “We made cookies!” The boy looks at Asch, and she’s breathless. 

“Mommy!” He runs to her, and Asch jerks a little when he impacts, hugging her skirts, there’s an instant reaction out of her, Asch’s eyes are filling with tears as a little warble of emotions escapes her. “Hi baby.” She breathes out, her hands touching his head, Castiel watches, amazed, as she collapses to the floor and hugs the boy tightly to her. Asch cradles him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, nose buried in his soft hair. 

“Hi sweetie,” Asch sniffles, the boy leans away from his mother’s arms, “Don't cry mommy,” he pouts worried, Asch shakes her head, smoothing some of his hair “It’s okay,” she says, cupping his cheeks, “Mommy is so happy to see you,” still his face twists, looking over his shoulder “Daddy, mama's crying.” Castiel felt as if his chest was smashed in, his ribs crushed into dust and his lungs collapsed. He was gripping the chair so hard he splintered the wood under his palm, he gulps, his forehead already covered in beads of sweat. Finally he forced his legs to work, managing to pull himself over to them. 

“Fix mama, daddy! Fix!” The boy squeaks in a sweet and commanding tone, a little frown on his face. “Your mother is alright,” he says evenly, surprised he could manage it, “She is just very happy to see you.” This just makes him puff his chubby cheeks out, his brows furrowed in a way that was _too much_ like Castiel. “But I was with mama all day!” He protests, crosses his little arms, Asch keeps him wrapped up in her arms, smiling wetly as her chin rests on his head. 

“I’m with mama everyday!” He says, nodding, glaring at Castiel, it’s impotent at best, the boy unable to put any real ferocity behind it because of his big eyes and sweet face “But you aren't!” He proclaims, and Castiel begins to understand “I have important work I must do.” The boy shakes his head, “But it makes mama so sad when you leave!” 

Castiel reaches for him and touches his cheek, “I will try to be with her as often as I can.” He says, watching the boy consider this, “Promise?” He says wearily, Castiel nods, “I promise.” The little boy beams, beckoning him closer, Castiel goes and the boy puts his hands on his face. Castiel lets him turn his face, the boy breathes softly into his ear, and then whispers softly enough that only Castiel can hear it. 

Asch awakes with a start, tears streaming down her face and shocking both the boys. “Asch what’s wrong?!” Dean scrambles onto the bed, taking her face in his hands, asch grabs his wrists, panting “I saw my son.”

Castiel was no where to be found. 

This wouldn’t have scared her in particular, but he had left Jimmy Novak behind. The man was nothing like the angel, certainly grateful to be back and conscious. Jimmy was very skittish, but he was honest, or so Asch thought. 

When he looked at her with familiar blue and beautiful eyes, they were a strangers. “I don’t remember what he wanted to tell you, Asch.” He says, shrugging as if it was no big deal, “I don’t remember anything but your name.” Asch didn’t know if that was on purpose, after all the man was talking about a wife and child he was going back too, maybe Castiel didn’t want him to know what he was doing with Asch. Maybe he didn’t want Jimmy to know she was technically pregnant with his kid. 

As if it were even possible, Jimmy didn’t look a thing like Castiel. 

Sam and Dean were doing a lot to try and convince him to stay, that he was in this as much as they were and it was too dangerous to return to his family. Asch didn’t have the heart to try, much to the Winchester’s annoyance, as if she had a special bond with him that she was suppose to exploit. Asch didn’t really want Jimmy around if she was being honest, just because he wasn’t really Castiel. 

Asch stayed out of this one, pretending to feel sicker then she was, it was a pale excuse but one they both let go. Bobby saw right through her, but he didn’t say anything and she simply helped him research, it was a little like old times. Bobby was as much a father to her as her own had been, in fact Bibby had more years spent with her than her own father, but that wasn’t his fault. She was little when they died, killed in a vampire attack, it was senseless, _violent_. Asch was only spared because she could fit in the crawl space he couldn’t, not from lack of try though. 

Bobby was the one that found her, pulled the body of the vampire out and promised everything would be okay. Ever since she’s been here, that is- until she met the Winchester’s. Life was about as normal and boring as it could be, Asch never thought she would be anything special, but now her heart ached for an angel that might as well have been humouring her affections, the thought twisted in her belly, jerking like a knife, and she knew what _that_ really felt like. 

So when she got the call about Castiel being okay, she didn’t take it personally that he didn’t come to see her.

_She didn’t._

Bobby was grim, he’d gotten a call too. Sam was drinking demon blood again, she had to clear out the panic room, and it wasn’t lost on her how pathetic she felt every time she looked over to the open door, just hoping Castiel would be there. 

Asch couldn't stop thinking about the dream, the pretty little boy furious with his father. Asch thinks he might be down right livid and was comforted by that thought as she neatly stacked all the guns outside the room on a spare table. “I hope I get to see your dreams again,” she coos, feeling elated, and just for a moment felt better. 

That came crashing down when Dean came back with Sam. 

Asch pretends she wasn’t disappointed when Castiel wasn’t with them, _why would he be?_ Asch avoided the whole affair, keeping herself at the fringe until Sam was locked in the panic room. Dean was beside himself with guilt over it, pacing back and forth.

“If you don’t stop you'll make a rut.” Asch comments, watching him hesitate, “This is my fault. I should’ve ganked that bitch.” Dean grumbles, Asch sighs, “Don’t beat yourself up Dean.” Dean’s lip quivers, “C’mere soldier.” He goes to her and he’s like a raw jumping nerve. “You’re doing everything you can okay? We’re in this together.” He shudders, tears stain her shirt, he grips her sides, tugging at her clothes. Asch wraps her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his short hair, letting him sob against her neck.

“Cass is gone,” he rasps, he brings her down to the floor and tears spark in her own eyes, “We’re... we’re _okay_ Dean.” She forced out, tucking her own face into his neck, inhaling his scent. They can’t part, they don’t want to, Dean barely gets them onto the sofa. Asch clings to him and Dean clings to her, both of them shaking at the sounds coming out of the panic room. 

Asch sits in a field, there is nothing there but grass and empty sky above her, she can hear giggling, “Mama!” Asch sparks, a smile coming to her lips. The little boy races to her arms, falling into her embrace and hugging her tightly. “Daddy made you sad again.” He frowns, but Asch shakes her head, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “You make mommy so happy, baby.” 

He sways in her embrace, his lip jutted out slightly, “I told daddy a secret.” He says, a little smile coming over his face. Asch pinches his cheek softly, making him giggle as he sits on her skirts “Did you want to tell mommy?” He nods, grabbing her hands and holding them, “I told him that I knew what he wanted to name me.” Asch tilts her head, playing with his slight curls, he looked so much like Castiel it hurt her a little. “What’s that baby?” He’s giddy, bouncing slightly “Daddy picked it special!”

“Will you tell me?” Asch asks, holding her breath as he nods, beginning to speak. 

Asch is forced awake again, Dean shaking her shoulder, “We got a problem.” 

_Don’t they always._

Dean was desperate, his eyes raw and red rimmed, he was looking at her, clutching her knees “Please. Please call him.” She wouldn’t have done it for anything, but Dean. Dean was sobbing, his eyes leaking tears so large and so sad it tugged at something inside her.

He was just a big brother, desperate to help is baby brother. 

Asch looked up at the sky, cursed quietly, furious at herself for agreeing. 

“Cass! I need you.” She shuts her eyes, but she still feels his coat fall against her legs. “What do you need?” He says in a tone she hasn’t heard in a long time. Asch plays it off like it doesn’t burn her very soul, and gestures to Dean. “He needs to talk to you.” Is all she can muster before taking herself away, stumbling in the rocks slightly, dragging herself out of ear shot. 

Asch collapses into the shed wall, a hand pressed over her mouth to quiet her sobs of anguish. She can just hear the whispers of their voices, but she doesn’t pay attention, she listens to the quiet sniffles leaving her chest. The waves of pain that ripples through her body, a dull ache of a bullet wound hurt less than this prickly spiking jab. 

The flutter of wings beside her makes Asch turn with a jerk, turning violently away from his eyes, but it doesn’t matter because he can hear her. “What did you need of me?” He asks hollow, empty, maybe even a little agitated. “T-That was i-it. You c-can go.” Asch tried her best to sound indifferent, casual. It falls flat horribly. “Asch...” she shakes her head, her face scrunched up as she snarls at him viciously “Go Castiel.” His eyes go wide, blinking those beautiful blue eyes at her in shock. 

“You are upset with me. Please tell me why.” Castiel demands, as if it was his place to do so. Asch spins, his hair flying about her in a wave of rage, Castiel’s feet shift in the rocks, “You vanished! You didn’t come back to me!” Castiel seems to become properly irritated, his face ticking and a little snarl comes to his lips, “I have duties-“ “Is that why you’ve been so cold?!” 

His face goes blank, “I... I still come when you need me.” Asch’s face screw up “What did they do to you?!” Castiel shifts on his feet, his hands digging into his pockets, his eyes downcast, “I have grown too attached.” 

Asch swallows, holding her head up in defiance, “You promised your son.” Castiel twists brokenly, “Screw heaven and screw you.” She knows he can follow her where ever she runs, but he doesn’t. 

Dreams were places she could escape too, at least a place she used to be able to escape too. There was a buck, a grant, mighty creature. His horns were too big and spiralled out for any regular creature, it would have fallen under the weight. The moss dangled with branches, flowering with peach colours.

“It is said that the birth of a white animal portends good things.” Castiel’s voice sings through the air. Asch squeezes her eyes shut, “Go away Cass.” She hears him advance, the leaves rustling under his feet, disturbing the peace. Asch feels him sit behind her, his legs stretch out on either side bent at the knee. “Isn’t this _becoming too attached_?” She bites, tightening in on herself.

“Please do not be angry with me. I need you.” Castiel whispers “I do not... understand how to handle... most things.” Asch glares over her shoulder at him, but it lost its potency when she saw his face. His eyes were rimmed red and budding with fresh tears. Asch sighs through her nose, “What’s with the dreams Cass? Why can’t you talk to me when I’m awake?” Castiel licks just lips, his hand coming up to massage his jaw “I have important duties... I cannot... I’m sorry everything will become clear soon.”

His hand slides over her stomach, “He's growing.” Castiel whispers, rubbing little bump, “I am too.” She grumbles, Castiel hums in confusion, “What are you referring too?” Asch lets herself laugh a little, settling into his embrace, allowing both of his hands to cup her stomach. “My feet are swollen and my breasts hurt Cass. They’ve gone up three sizes.”

“Yes I have noticed.” Asch’s face goes a little pink, he was too nonchalant- she could feel him smirk agasint her hair. 

_And not so innocent anymore._

“It is very beautiful here. But it is no memory.” Castiel says softly, Asch shakes her head “No it’s a place my mother told me of, she used to play here... the buck is just a tale.” She can feel Castiel nod “Our son spoke to me again.” She threads their fingers together, “He told me you have a name for him.” Asch peaks at him, scrutinizing his gentle expression. His face held a soft, airy smile “Allow me to keep you in suspense?” 

Asch bites her cheek, changing the subject “I won’t... die right? This won’t kill me?” Castiel shakes his head instantly, “I would not allow it.” Asch twists enough in his embrace so that she can kiss his cheek, Castiel’s eyes flutter shut, a ghost of a smile “I wish this wasn’t a dream.” She mutters agasint his stubbled jaw. Castiel tilts his head down toward her, “It is real. Though yes you are asleep.” 

Castiel kisses her temple, exhaling deeply as she moves around in his arms, finally facing him, Asch doesn’t say anything and simply kisses him. Before them the world shimmers, changing around them. Castiel falls back into plush sheets, the canopy above them enclosing the bed around them cutting off the outside world. Asch settles against him, releasing his lips with a drowsy smile. 

Castiel rolls to his side taking her with him, cradling her as the pillows envelop their heads. Castiel was no longer wearing his suit and coat, now simply a white cotton shirt and a pair of plaid patterned sleep pants. Asch nuzzles into his embrace, her own clothes a string top and airy shorts. “I have never slept before.” Castiel whispers, not wishing to ruin the peacefulness. “Can you?” She says tiredly, arms winding around his tapered waist. “Yes.” Asch nods aimlessly against his collarbone, drifting “This is a dream you have?” His own eyes were growing heavy, fatigue suddenly seeping into his body. Castiel knew many of her dreams, finding himself often in them, they were quite peaceful despite what she has been through.

“Yes... a new one” he feels the moment she falls asleep, and thinks that this is something he could enjoy immensely. 


	7. Castiel dabbles 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel/Asch 
> 
> Sorry this is a little over due! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Angels were tricky, tricky creatures. Asch was so at peace she forgot that they could be anywhere, even, say _two_ places at once. 

She stands there with Dean, betraying nothing that she knew, and all she knew was that she was used. 

And Sam was gone. 

Was she going to tell him? Asch didn’t know. But Castiel certainly knew that she knows what he did. That’s why he came to her. 

_Please don’t be angry with me, I need you._

Asch thought he was apologizing, but really he was just hoping she would cover his ass. Protect him, protect Dean from the truth. He _needed_ her, he needed her to _lie_.

Why? She had no idea what his plans were, why he let Sam, _oh so completely delusional_ Sam out of the panic room. He went to Ruby that much was clear, Dean knew him better than anyone, knew exactly what he was going to do. 

_Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? That you lied? That you let him out?_ Asch lays there against the window, staring at the brush and broken trees they pass, _You used me. Again._

Asch wonders if Castiel can hear her, if he cares to listen. _Why did you let him go?_ Asch frowns at the clouds. Glaring at the fluffy globs like it would do anything. _Why do you keep pretending to care?_

_Why do I let you?_

Dean wasn't wasting a second, as if his mind was working as a machine, without emotion, without stops. They found Sam in two days. His mouth was wet, dripping with blood, his eyes shot and shaky. Dean was fast, but Sam was faster. Asch barely had a second to pull them apart, “Dean- Dean stop-“ he yanks out of her grasp “I’m gonna bleed you bitch-!” He lunges for Ruby, Asch got his coat, but all it did was rip as he pulled away from her. Sam dives at him, they catch blows and both come away badly, snarling at each other. 

“C’mere tag-a-long.” Ruby shoves Asch, knocking the wind out of her as she slams into the wall of the motel. Ruby advances, but Asch misses her knife, throwing all her weight into a solid hit to her jaw. The blow makes her stumble, Asch claws at her hair, jerking it until she flew backward, Asch has a nasty grip on her, a knife poised to her throat. 

It didn’t even occur to her that Sam would attack her. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor with a pounding headache, spitting up blood through her teeth. Ruby smashes her foot down onto her hand, making Asch cringe in pain, breathing out a gasp. Asch writhes on the floor, cluching her hand to her chest, it roars in agony. Dean scrambles, pulling her up into his embrace, checking her head, putting pressure on the spot Sam struck with the butt of his gun. 

“Sam I can’t believe you,” Dean growls lowly, the fog of his words permeating through the room. “Sam how do you not see how far this has gone?” His voice raw, damaged. “You’re becoming a monster.”

Sam didn’t even have the decency to flinch at the remark “You don’t even see it do you? That’s how far this bitch has lead you.” Dean spits, tucking Asch slightly behind him, “You listen to me Sam. You drop this shit right now or you walk out that door and don’t you ever come back.” Sam and Dean share a long, heated horrible look. Rudy was tugging on Sam’s arm, whispering poison into his ear, while Asch just hopelessly gripped onto Dean, pleading silently. 

There was always one side of good and one side of bad, that's why coins have two faces, the saying; _it’s all black and white_ had clear intentionally meanings. Or her favorite, heaven was love and life while hell was death and pain. Heaven had their angels, their warriors of all good and right. Hell had soldiers of dread and sorrow. 

Heaven had Dean.

Hell had Sam. 

Asch well. 

Asch might have been the middle of the sayings. The ring of the coin, the grey. The purgatory. Everything was in sunders, the flames reaching the rally flag. Only a few seals left and they lost Sam to Ruby. 

They rode in silence, the worst part of it all? _Asch wanted Castiel._

Castiel said five months and time was a sick reminder. 

It had been about four and half now, getting closer and closer. Dean said she wasn’t leaving the house and she listened, knowing he was in no mood to argue with her. Despite his best efforts seals were still breaking, every time he came back, door slamming behind him, Bobby and Asch knew it was another loss. 

There were small, fleeting moments when it wasn’t all bad. Almost like if you stepped into the house everything was normal, and the world was churning on. Dean had a beer by his thigh, his hands full of wood pieces. They were building a crib. For once it wasn’t miserable. 

Asch was sitting there, her feet tucked to her side as she held screws in her open palm for him to take. Dean fit another joint together and smiles at her “So what are you gonna name him?” The question was twisted, too full of baggage. Castiel had a name for him, but he never told her and he was no where to be found. He hadn’t been for a long time, too ashamed or too busy. “After my father, Cyrus.” Asch decided a long time ago that she didn’t care if Castiel was involved, he was and angel and they were as finicky as the wind. How she ever hoped to tie one down was a pipe dream she scolded herself for having, letting those dreams of having a home together, _being together_. 

She was a hunter and she knew better. 

This was just fine, she had Dean. The more she let him in the more comfortably he fit, and he was happy here. He was already starting to mold into the role that belonged to Castiel, and it looked _good_ on him. 

“You’ll be with me right?” She swallows nervously, getting his full attention, “When he comes?” She was scared, more scared of this then she was anything else. She didn’t want to be alone through the pain. Dean scoots over to her, bumps his head into hers before kissing her temple “Of course I will.” Dean’s hand was at the edge of her belly, and he jumps in surprise when his palm is kicked. Asch giggles at his expression of pure wonder, grabbing his wrist “That’s uncle Dean,” she coos, placing his hand right where the kicking was, “He already loves you.” Asch says, feeling an ache creep into her chest, she wanted this so much, maybe she could pretend it was real, just for a second. 

Dean rubs the spot, “Hey buddy, you be nice to your mom.” He grins when the kicking mellowed out to little nudges. When Dean moves away he took with him her hopes, but it wasn’t lost on her that he did so hesitating. Asch knew that moments like this were _take what you can_ kinds, because soon it was going to be over. Asch places the screws down, using Dean as an achor to help herself stand, he was all too happy for it, grinning at her from the floor as she grabbed his keys from the table “I’ll go get the rest of his things.” Dean let her go without a fuss, after all it wasn’t heavy and he was in ear shot if anything happened. 

As he held her breath and hoped a little too hard that Castiel would come. 

Asch popped the trunk and smiles a little at its contents. Three little brown paper bags were stuffed with soft pastel colours. Asch rolls her hand over the soft poking blanket roll, grabbing a particularly baby blue teddy bear. Asch hugs it, petting it’s soft face, smiling at the ruffled fluff. She lingered out there alone, waiting, pleading silently. 

But he never came. Asch grasps all the bags and goes back inside, the teddy bear under her arm. “Dean? Remember that-“ she turns, stopping when she sees him.

“Oh good I had wondered where you had gotten too.” Zachariah sounds all to smug, “Look at that, almost ready to burst hm?” Asch blinks and they are no longer home, no longer in the living room. 

And just like that, just like _always_ , the moment was over. 

Dean reacts more violently then she imagined he would, his hands grip and yank the angels suit, “Where did you take us?!” He demands, face inches from Zachariah’s. “You’re both very meddlesome. We’ve brought you here so you don’t try and stop the final seal breaking.” Dean’s face screws up in shocked confusion, shoving Zachariah back. The angel doesn’t stumble, he hardly moves, chuckling he shakes his head “Do you really think all that hot wind and blister is going to do you any good here?” Asch examines the room, the walls were gaudy and golden, there was no door in sight. 

“What do you mean? Why do you want the seal broken?!” Of course the angel laughs at this, as if it was obvious, but explains anyway, “It’s destined that you stop the apocalypse- but not stop it from happening.” Pieces were clicking together, Dean eyes scanning over unseen information, “millions of people will die!” 

“Billions, boy.” 

Asch shakes, clutching at the plush chair, its only then does Zachariah bother to notice her. “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be safe from harm. After all, that’s Gods grand baby in there.” His lips purse, his expression licked with pride, “And he’s still very important in this coming war.” Instinctively, Asch’s hands wrap over her belly, “Didn't Castiel tell you?” Asch glares sharply at him, willing all the hate she had for angels to seep through her gaze. 

“Oh my, how fun.” He looks giddy, “Castiel practically begs for it and lies. Oh humans are so simple.” Asch’s expression faulters, “Wh- what did you mean?” Zachariah grins sickly “It wasn’t suppose to be Castiel,” he snorts, shaking his head “But your little angel got on his knees and weeped to Michael- of course baby brother got his way. Now look at him, he gets to be the guardian of you three.” Zachariah stuffs his hands in his pockets, pacing around the table, a little smirk playing at his lips, “Isn’t that right Castiel?” 

Asch goes ridged when she feel his presence right behind her. “Zachariah.” It was thrown over her shoulder, a blast of hot wrath. Zachariah pouts in response, “I touched a nerve did I?” He whistled out a breath, a ticking sound escaping him “I guess you shouldn’t have lied so much, hm?”

“That’s enough!” Castiel barks, but Zachariah was already gone. “Cass what’s he talking about?” Dean says, “And I swear if you lie to me right now.” 

Castiel licks his lips, a soft sigh tickles Asch’s hair “What Zachariah says is true. You are tasked with stopping the apocalypse after it has started...”

“No.” He didn’t need to, but Castiel speaks anyway, “Sam is the true vessel of Lucifer. You are to await here until the time is-“ Dean swipes at the contents of the table, the clatter of the plates punches the air and leaves it rattled. Asch steps back and bumps into Castiel. Though he doesn’t seem to notice this. Asch edges away from him, clutching the arch of the fireplace, “What about me?” She mutters, partly hoping he did not hear. 

“Our son will command the armies of heaven along side Michael.” Asch jerks her head sideways to look at Castiel, his flat, dead eyes already trained on her. “He’s a baby.” She snaps, Castiel’s lips press together, “He will be aged and trained.” The heartlessness of it has her breaking apart “Over my dead fucking body.” His jaw flexes, but Asch continues, “This is my baby and if you think I’ll let you take him.” 

Castiel looks at her coldly, “This child is neither mine or yours. He is a weapon against hell and it was a privilege for you to carry him into this world, nothing more.” Asch feels the tears fall down her cheeks, “Don’t do this Cass. Please.”

The misery in the room is thick, she doesn’t care that he is gone. 

Dean was heaving, breaking the room, roaring in fury when it reverted, it was like that for some time, just the two of them. And then the unthinkable happened. 

Her water broke. 

The sound echoed through the silence, Dean’s head shot up at the sound “No- no-“ she wasn’t with Dean anymore, she wasn’t anywhere she recognized. She was in a bed, a large and cozy one, there were machines, little bands attached to her. She wasn’t alone. “Isn’t that just... perfect timing?” Zachariah smiles at her, patting her hand. “Looks like you’re sitting out the Apocalypse sweetheart.” She couldn’t do anything but scream at the oncoming pain. 


	8. Castiel dabbles 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel/Asch Cinnis
> 
> Oh boy! Sorry about taking so long! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Asch didn’t know the time in this place, it could have been an hour, it could have been many. None of the angels- _and she knew they were angels_ \- they wouldn’t say anything to her, they just watched and waited. 

It wasn’t going to be long now, she knew what their nodding and quiet looks meant. The tears along her face weren’t all from the pain. What was most unbearable was the thought of never seeing him, whatever was going to happen after this. 

She begged him to stay inside. 

“It’s time.” One of the angels said, prompting them all into action. “Please push when you are told.” Her heart was pounding. No. No she couldn’t, not yet. Asch wails in pain, head digging into the pillow.

_Cass please don’t let them take our baby._

“Little brother I don’t see why this is my concern?” Castiel glares, “We have precious little time for this Gabriel...” he trails off, staring at the floor with intense eyes, “I need you to do this for me.” Gabriel tuts, throwing his hands up, shrugging “I dunno baby bro- that’s a biggy.” Castiel’s jaw hinges shut, painfully clenched, eyes dark as the Black Sea. Like a void ready to swallow the world whole. 

Gabriel sighs heavily through his long nose, neck kneaded harsh, they peer at each other, bereft of emotion, considering, pleading. Gabriel wipes the side of his face, flicking his wrist with a flourish. There was darkness around them, a kind unkept for angels to be slinking around in. There was uneasiness stirring under the surface, bubbling up and over, an active volcano of emotions. 

“Gabriel please. It’s my son.” Castiel’s voice was weak, pulled apart like weak linen, “Yeah yeah and your what- wife? Baby mama?” Gabriel adds, his head dipped forward, fishing, reaching. Looking at his little brother as he held in a scoff. It was never easy between them, a swift run over a razor wire, but even this wasn’t as damaged as some things. 

“ _Asch_.” 

“Yeah. _Your Asch._ ” Gabriel agrees, tight lipped and tortured. They didn’t owe each other anything, they weren’t bound by brotherly compassion and concern for one another. Their blood was split by plenty and neither of them were filled with enough love for the other to forget that. “Please just get me in there.” He beseeches, Gabriel throws his hands up again, theatrical and furious. Lush, expansive honey golden wings sprout from his shoulders, flicking in the dim light. They were powerful, beautiful things, they flare around him in a mighty show of annoyance. 

Castiel stiffens, teeth digging into his lip, he stands straighter and Gabriel snorts his laughter, mocking him. “Still shy about your wings baby bro? That’s cute.” Castiel’s rolls his shoulders, “You want me to stick my neck out and take heavens greatest weapon out from under all the other angels?” 

Castiel shakes his head “I have too. I promised her... that she could keep him.” This time his mocking laugh is uproarious, “You- you- _Cassie_. Hah-“ he breaks off in a fit of laughter, his wings shaking with his whole body. “I have a plan. I need you to help me Gabriel.” 

Gabriel laughs, forced and humorless this time. “What’s this plan?”

Asch folded over in pain, screaming as loud as the walls would let her. All of the bulbs were broken around the bed, bathing them in shadows. She squeezes her eyes shut once more, begged it to be over and then a little cry erupted through the room. She opens her eyes, blurry with tears, blinking them until her sticky lashes pushed the water from her vision, “Cass?!” She shrieks, the Angel before is her bloodied to the elbow, baring the squalling babe in his arms. Castiel looks at her in fright, ocean eyes a wide, breathless sight. 

“I will protect him,” he says, a rush of words almost too fast for her ear, “I must take him but I promise you will have him.” Asch lurches her arm out, yanking it forward until it hurt “Please let me see him-“ Castiel looks worried, throwing a suspicious glance over shoulder. Quickly he moves, resting the baby in her arms, “What is his name?” She whispers, stroking her knuckles softly over his cheek. 

“Tyrael.” 

Castiel gathers him up, cradling his head to his chest as he takes him from her, “He’ll be safe. I...” his lips press into hers in a rush, all of the emotions that pent up between them. Asch palms his face in her hands, pouring her hatred, her fear, her love. 

“I love you.” She breathes against his lips. 


End file.
